


prince of a thousand

by zombiekittiez



Series: Postscript [3]
Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, Dangan Ronpa 3: The End of 希望ヶ峰学園 | The End of Kibougamine Gakuen | End of Hope's Peak High School, Dangan Ronpa: Another Episode, Super Dangan Ronpa 2
Genre: Blood and Gore, Danganronpa esque fucked up, Dealing With Trauma, Developing Friendships, F/M, Komaeda Nagito's Luck Cycle, Komaeda-centric, Literary References & Allusions, M/M, Minor Relationships, Post DR3, Violence, komaeda being komaeda, plot heavy, relationship dynamics, slight AU, some tags missing because spoilers, that should really be a more common tag, there's sparknotes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-24
Updated: 2020-09-24
Packaged: 2021-03-02 01:47:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 27,160
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23827081
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zombiekittiez/pseuds/zombiekittiez
Summary: All the world will be your enemy, Prince with a Thousand Enemies, and whenever they catch you, they will kill you. But first they must catch you.~~“You’re cured, Komaeda.” Hinata tells him patiently for the second time. “You’re not going to die.”Nagito gags.“He’s hyperventilating-” Hinata barks directions at Tsumiki, who slides on her cool professionalism with her latex gloves.Nagito’s breathing comes in short staccato bursts, the only warning before he turns his head, Tsumiki expertly sliding the bucket into place as he vomits. He coughs, when it is over. She hands him a moist towelette.The worst possible luck.~~Nagito is happy, healthy, and in love. Too bad his luck has other plans.
Relationships: Hinata Hajime/Komaeda Nagito, Kirigiri Kyoko & Komaeda Nagito, Komaeda Nagito & Mioda Ibuki, Komaeda Nagito & Soda Kazuichi, Kuzuryu Fuyuhiko/Pekoyama Peko
Series: Postscript [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1406809
Comments: 226
Kudos: 409





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Komaeda throws up a lot this chapter, so gird your loins if that's troublesome for you. 
> 
> You really probably need to read [part one](https://archiveofourown.org/works/18432527/chapters/43663061) to get this fic. I recommend reading [part two](https://archiveofourown.org/works/23225929) because I loved writing it, but you do you. 
> 
> Reference notes at the end of the chapter!
> 
> Please also come yell at me about DR on [twitter,](https://twitter.com/zombie_kittiez) I do that now.

“I’m sorry,” Nagito says pleasantly. “I’m certain that I must be too stupid to understand.” 

Hinata and Tsumiki exchange a glance. Nagito pretends not to notice. 

(Nagito is a champion pretender.)

Instead, he tries to look encouraging when they begin to explain again, more slowly. He tries to maintain eye contact, to keep them looking up while his hand grips the underside of the examination table he sits on so tightly that there will be marks, he knows, for hours after.

Nagito has always expected to die. 

From the first plane crash. 

From the abduction. 

From the illness. 

From the island. 

It changed him, a little. A funny side effect he’d noticed, one he’d had the pleasure of discussing briefly with the Ultimate Soldier. 

“You almost die enough times, it’ll kill you,” she’d said. 

One of those meaningless platitudes that Junko had always hated in her sister. 

(Stupid, thick, slow, ugly.)

But Ikusaba had been right, of course. It _would_ take someone as common and simple as all that to put it into words. 

By the time Nagito had accepted his death only to be dragged back into a facsimile of living for the third or fourth time, it had lost a bit of the shine, really. 

It’s amazing how freeing it can be, accepting one’s death. 

Never worrying about regret, never concerned with safety, with future… 

Frantic, frenetic life, grasping at golden moments. Then out, out- 

And now?

“You’re cured, Komaeda.” Hinata tells him patiently for the second time. “You’re not going to die.” 

Nagito gags. 

“He’s hyperventilating-” Hinata barks directions at Tsumiki, who slides on her cool professionalism with her latex gloves. 

Nagito’s breathing comes in short staccato bursts, the only warning before he turns his head, Tsumiki expertly sliding the bucket into place as he vomits. He coughs, when it is over. She hands him a moist towelette. 

The worst possible luck. 

~~

“Don’t fear the reaper,” Soda sings along in the warehouse-garage and Mioda smacks him across the bicep. 

“Kazu, that’s not very sensitive!” She scolds. “Nagito’s really going through it right now!”

“Ow- okay, sorry!” Soda puts a hand up to block the next blow. “But seriously, Komaeda. Who the hell is _bummed_ hearing they ain’t terminal? Man, you are somethin’ else.” 

Nagito thumbs the corner of his book, where the page edges have worn into softness, like dandelion fluff. “I am strange,” he agrees, but his voice gives a little more away than he’d intended. They look at him. He looks away. 

Soda clicks off the radio. 

“D’you want to talk about it?” Mioda asks. She’s learning to be a little less intense, but the way she leans a bit too far into his space tells Nagito that it’s a work in progress at best. 

“It’s not very interesting.” Nagito says, but it’s not a no. 

“Fuck, man, I don’t ever got anything interesting to say, and you two put up with it alright.” Soda grins. 

“So does Komaru,” Mioda teases. 

“Too much good luck has to be balanced out with bad luck.” Nagito says quietly, as though talking to himself. His friends go quiet, attentive. “It’s not just superstition- it’s a pattern. A streak of bad luck leads to a large gain. A streak of gains will then lead to a larger loss.” 

“So you’re thinkin’... what, since the sim? That’s been one big winning streak?” Soda hazards a guess. Nagito nods. 

“I found hope and purpose and-”

“Ha-ji-me,” Mioda stage whispers. 

Nagito smiles stiffly. “That was a winning streak. This should have been my loss.” 

“You think your power is that totally evil?” Mioda asks. “Like it would set you up to love life and then- kersplat?” 

“Kersplat,” Nagito repeats agreeably. 

“Okay, so you got a good thing going, and it’s still on. You’re thinking it’s gonna be real bad, whatever happens next, right? Well, what about before that? From what I remember, didn’t you get kicked out of school right before shit went tits up?”

“Among other things,” Nagito murmurs. 

“So, I mean, I could be totally off base here, but…” 

“What, Kazu? What what?” 

“I mean, have you ever done anything as awful as when you joined Junko’s Despairs?” Nagito and Mioda freeze. “I know, we don’t talk about it. It ain’t- it doesn’t _help_ but just hear me out.” Soda points with a wrench for emphasis. “Maybe all the bad luck that got you in this bullshit is evenin’ out for once. That was the worst thing you could ever get mixed up in, right? You think about that?” 

“What, that the world… owes me?” Nagito’s voice drips with sarcasm. 

“Is it impossible to think that maybe yeah, you deserve to be alive and not in pain and in love with someone who loves you back?” Soda asks. 

“Yes,” Nagito snaps, ignoring the creak of the door behind him. “It’s not for me. I never wanted that!” 

Mioda wilts in place. Soda is looking at the ceiling. Behind him, someone coughs politely. 

“Hinata,” Nagito greets without turning around. 

“Komaeda,” Hinata says cordially. 

“If you’ll excuse me,” Nagito says, rising gracefully and leaving the room. He even almost gets away with it. 

“Komaeda,” Hinata says again, directly behind him in that same dispassionate voice. It brings a slight shiver down Nagito’s spine, when it lands. There’s still something of a thrill in even being acknowledged in public, the kind of thing that makes Nagito want to lay down on the floor and show his belly. 

He wants Hinata to step on him. 

“...yes, Hinata?” 

“You’re forgetting your book.” 

Hinata falls into step beside Nagito and now they’re walking out on the dock alongside the warehouse. Alone in the dark, except for small fairy lights and a few stray fireflies. Obnoxiously romantic. Nagito frowns. 

Beside him, Hinata stifles a small laugh into his hand, like a cough. 

“What’s so funny?” Nagito demands, like he doesn’t know. 

“Nothing,” Hinata says, and he isn’t even smiling anymore, all Kamakura mouth but his eyes are so bright on Nagito, and affectionate and amused and telegraphing exactly how he feels. 

Nagito looks away, feeling vaguely sick. “Don’t look at me,” he says, but with hardly any force behind it. Hinata humors him anyway. He looks down at the forgotten book instead. 

“Is it good?” Hinata asks, turning the cover over in his clever hands. 

“Do you not know of it?” Nagito asks curiously, taking it from him. 

“I do… Ultimate Literary Genius.” Hinata taps his temple with a self-deprecating smile. Komaeda resists the urge to kiss it away. “But that doesn’t mean I remember reading it…. enjoying it.” 

Nagito thumbs the worn, soft corner once more. “It’s my favorite,” he explains quietly. 

“Really?” Hinata sits at the edge of the dock, over the dark water. With faltering steps, Nagito joins him. Perhaps something will drag them under. One can always hope. 

“After the first plane crash, the one that killed my parents… well, I was fine, of course. Quite lucky. But the doctors wanted to be sure, and it took some time for the guardianship, so. I was in the children’s ward for two weeks, I think? There was a copy, in the little share-library there.I read it three or four times while I was there.” 

“Why did you like it so much?” Hinata leans just a little- just enough for Nagito to feel the warmth of another person at his side. Nagito wants to curl into it, to let Hinata tuck an arm along his back. Instead, Nagito counts to ten before he makes himself shift a little away. 

“Death.” Nagito looks over the dark water. Faintly, behind them, he can hear Soda and Mioda cranking up the stereo, Blue Oyster Cult shaking the walls. “It’s the Black Rabbit of Inle. When it calls your name, you must go. There’s no beating it. There is no bargain. That made sense to me.” 

“What is is what must be,” Hinata quotes agreeably. “I wonder if you will ever want to live as much as you wanted to die.” 

Nagito stands. “Here,” he holds the book out for Hinata, still sitting on the pier. “It’s better, reading it yourself.” Hinata catches his wrist softly. He turns Nagito’s hand slightly, pressing it briefly against the side of his cheek. It is startlingly intimate. 

“Goodnight, Nagito.” Hinata takes the copy of _Watership Down_ and lets him go. 

For now. 

~~

At breakfast, Nagito is still subdued. Idly, he thinks about the merits of going for a walk around the island after and skirting a little too close to the cliff's edge. Perhaps he would snap his spine upon landing. But no. It would be far too easy to slip over the side and be swept into a cove full of hidden treasure, completely unscathed. No need to make the eventual luck-crash any uglier than it already will be. 

He is, in fact, so preoccupied that it takes him completely by surprise when he glances up to see Hinata seated across from him, frowning. 

“You haven’t touched your food,” he says, and it’s a bearable concern because it sounds medical and not affectionate. 

“I don’t have much appetite,” Nagito says, though he does gamely pick up a piece of toast. 

“You have a slow metabolism,” Hinata agrees, “but since we’ve taken you off the treatments that ought to increase. You should start putting on weight in the next few weeks.” 

“Is that something you’re into?” Nagito breaks the yolk of his egg and it runs in a yellow, buttery river across his plate. 

“A healthy complexion and weight to height ratio? I think most people are into that.” Hinata rolls his eyes.

“What if I get fat?” Nagito wonders aloud. Hinata shrugs, losing interest in the game. 

“If that’s the goal, you’ve got a long road ahead. My interest in you isn’t centered on your weight.” 

“What is it centered on?” Nagito asks curiously. 

“I wonder,” Hinata grins boyishly. 

“It’s too early to be gross,” Saionji complains, walking by with her dirty tray. The look she gives them is similarly filthy. Hinata holds his hands up in surrender. 

“Shouldn’t you be doing something about _that,_ fearless leader?” Koizumi asks over her shoulder, gesturing to another table across the room. Nidai sits, head in hands, staring out of the window, shockingly subdued. 

“Duty calls,” Nagito says cheerfully. 

“Here, a divided duty.” Hinata reluctantly gets to his feet. Nagito waves goodbye obnoxiously. 

“You… gonna eat that?” Owari hovers. Nagito pushes his plate over in front of her. Hinata will just have to be content with a triangle half of toast and a slice of cantaloupe- it’s all he’s managed, anyway. 

“What’s got Neko-Neko in a funk, anyway?” Mioda asks, joining them. 

“Trainin’ is boring? Or something.” Owari shrugs. Mioda tosses her a piece of bacon that Owari snaps out of midair like a half-trained dog. 

“Ibuki could make him a playlist! Ooooh, training mon-taaaaage!” Mioda sings. 

“Isn’t that your niche?” Nagito asks, curious despite himself. 

“I dunno what that means, but like… I guess I got too good at it? We still mess around and stuff but I’m about as strong and flexible as I’m gonna get. Coach is all about the downward dog.” 

“Yoga?” Mioda asks, confused. “Or is that like… innuendo?” She waggles her eyebrows wildly. 

“I believe she means ‘underdog.’” Imposter sits beside Mioda. “Nidai misses being the Ultimate Team Manager. Training someone unproven up to their full physical and mental potential is his life’s work.” 

“You could do with a little trainin’” Owari says, trying to swipe Imposter’s muffin right off his plate. Imposter, unperturbed, slides it out of her reach. 

“I am quite happy with my corpulent physique,” he says mildly. “And at any rate, I understand it to be a hellish process. It’s a painful, intense period, particularly for a novice. Several of his former trainees have said that death would be preferable.” 

“You really do your research!” Mioda bats her eyelashes at him. 

Imposter visibly preens under the attention. “Yes, well. It’s all part of the impersonation process. I know many intimate details about you all.” 

“That’s suuuuuper cool and not at all creepy!” Mioda gushes. 

Nagito stands so quickly that his chair nearly tips over, but he doesn’t hesitate. Instead, he makes a bee-line for the corner table where Hinata listens to Nidai with a mixture of sympathy and bewildered confusion. 

“Maybe… we could set up some kind of… Raijo Taiso?” 

Nidai slumps further into his chair, which is to say that his chin dips even lower. His massive shoulders have nowhere else to droop. 

“It’s not the same. The rush of taking untried, unmolded clay and shaping it into peak performance-” Nidai’s voice actually breaks, so super-charged with emotion. “There’s nothing like it!” 

Hinata casts around the room for inspiration. He locks eyes with Nagito a split second before the other can speak. His eyes narrow in suspicion. It’s an attractive look for him. Nagito wishes he had time to study it. 

“I volunteer as tribute,” Nagito says, planting both hands on the table and leaning earnestly into Nidai’s space. 

“Komaeda-” 

“I’ve got a clean bill of health. Nothing to prevent me from reaching my full physical potential. I’m _clay,_ Nidai! Wet, sticky, gross gray clay.” Nagito’s voice drops. “Mold me.” 

An awkward silence. 

“...Wow.” Koizumi throws her hands up and backs into the kitchen for dish duty. 

“You’ll…. You’ll really let me train you? Whatever I tell you, no matter what?” 

“An-y-thing.” Nagito promises. 

“...I am not most certain who I feel sorriest for.” Sonia, at a table with Tanaka, tilts her head to the side thoughtfully. 

“Me,” Hinata says flatly. “Pretty much always me.” 

Kuzuryu snickers meanly. “Nah, you do this to yourself.” Pekoyama watches with her steady, ruby gaze, buttering a scone thoughtfully. 

Hinata glares. “Komaeda.” He turns to address Nagito. “You just got cleared. You can’t throw yourself into a strenuous physical routine-” 

“Do you think I’d be so foolish as to injure Komaeda?” Nidai interrupts. His voice is very calm and cool. Nagito’s pleasant expression curls into something this side of smug. Hinata chokes. 

“N-no! That’s-” 

“Do you think I’ve never worked with someone in recovery? That I don’t carefully tailor my programs to benefit each individual’s capabilities? Is my track record- my very _talent_ in QUESTION?!” 

“I didn’t mean to say-” Hinata tries, but now a crowd is gathering. Nagito’s timing had been fortuitous- finished breakfasting and looking to delay a day of hard work, the others cluster around offering dubious moral support. 

“I-if there’s medical supervision, there’s no objection.” Tsumiki says, raising a hand. “J-just check in weekly, like before!” 

“Ah do love a challenge. Leave it to me to come up with some haute cuisine that fits the… macros.” Hanamura winks lasciviously. 

The former Warriors of Hope have begun to chant “Let them fight” in the back, standing on one of the tables and creating a good deal of unnecessary noise. There’s a strong possibility that they do not even know what the argument is for. Nagito _must_ remember to slip them a treat later. 

Hinata closes his eyes in surrender. One hand rubs a circle into his left temple, signaling an impending stress-induced migraine. 

Nagito resists the urge to kiss him on the mouth. 

~~ 

“I came because I thought it was gonna be funny watching you suffer,” Saionji says some time later. “But it’s actually just kind of sad. Just being around you is bringing me down, like some kind of pussy power.” 

Nagito, doubled up and coughing up the remains of his breakfast onto the sand, wipes the back of his mouth with his sleeve before smiling up at her. 

“I apologize for my pathetic performance,” he says insincerely. 

Saionji takes an exaggerated step backwards. “C’mon, Mahiru. Before he pukes again.” 

“You think he will? It’s been twice already.” Koizumi trails behind. Her eyes betray her concern. When Nagito doubles over again, coughing up what might be a corner of toast as an afterthought, she fairly jumps to the side, though. 

Nidai brays a laugh, hands at his hips, up toward the sky. “Better out than in!” And really, it _is_ worth it to see his happy, hopeful face. So wondrously self-confident, after that earlier despair. Nagito is sure he’s made the right decision. 

“Thirty more seconds, and then onto the second drill!” 

Nagito straightens up, ignoring the twinge in his back and the way that last cough tasted just a little coppery in the back of his throat. 

“Osu!” 

~~ 

The sun is setting on the beach when Nagito opens his eyes. The faintest fleck of silver stars are starting to become visible, further up, though the water itself still retains a little gold, a little light blue. A little red and purple, from the lingering pollution and chemical clouds. Ah, well. Pretty all the same. 

The sand underneath his head feels damp. He does hope it is from sweat. It’s a bit cold- he is a bit cold, actually, now that he’s thinking about it. Where is his jacket? Nidai had made him change into more suitable training attire but the spandex does not offer much protection against the elements. 

Perhaps, if he stays like this, very still, he will not feel his muscles so much. And if he is very fortunate, when the ghost crabs come out in a few hours, perhaps they will eat him. 

Something heavy and soft drops onto his face, tossed underhand from a few feet away. Nagito considers moving it- but that would require moving his arm or to pick up his prosthetic off the ground and that just doesn’t seem possible at the moment. 

“Get up, Komaeda.” 

Despite the impracticality of the situation- as much as he would like to say _I am sorry, Hinata, but that simply isn’t feasible at this current juncture-_ the compulsion to please Hinata is deeply ingrained. Nagito sits up. His jacket, which had been covering his face, falls into his lap. His abdominal muscles spasm with the motion. He curls around the jacket, and around himself. 

The only reason Nagito doesn’t throw up again is that there isn’t anything left. He coughs rather wetly all the same. 

“Do I need to carry you?” 

Nagito laughs. “Thank you, no. I’ll be up presently.” 

“That is what you told Nidai when he left you here.” 

“Did I?” 

“You did. Three hours ago.” 

“Ah.” 

“I’m going to pick you up now. Please don’t be difficult.” And with that, Hinata hauls Nagito up, slinging him over one shoulder with one easy motion. Nagito moans. It is not the type of moan he is used to making when Hinata touches him. This one is rather pained, punched out of him by the hard line of Hinata’s shoulder under his chin. Somehow, even his neck muscles ache and the stretch is just this side of unbearable. 

“I really am fine,” Nagito tries. 

Hinata snorts. 

Nagito blinks and then he is sitting, propped against the bathroom tile. The change of angle is disorienting. He grits his teeth against the wave of nausea. There’s a faint roaring in his ears- no. That’s not it. It’s the sound of running water. Someone is filling the bath. 

“Drink,” Hinata orders. 

There’s a bottle of sports drink down by his good hand. Hinata has already set the prosthetic aside for cleaning. Leaning back into the wall for balance, he manages two weak sips before his wrist gives. He puts the bottle down hastily. 

Hinata wordlessly leaves the tub to fill, lifting the bottle again so that Nagito can drink. Nagito licks his lips rapturously after. 

“Please try to enjoy this less,” Hinata gripes. 

“Of course,” Nagito lies pleasantly. 

“You’re so stubborn.” Hinata pulls Nagito’s shirt off over his head, tossing it into a bucket to soak. He reaches for Nagito’s shorts. Nagito raises an eyebrow suggestively. “Don’t even think about it,” Hinata says shortly. “You reek.” 

“Isn’t that what the bath is for?” Nagito asks innocently. 

“Rebellious hind, filth and scum, lay your weapons down.” Hinata chides, but he is fighting back a smile. 

“Not marked for the gallows, now.” Nagito says, eyes slipping closed again. 

“Don’t pass out,” Hinata orders. “You’ll drown.” 

“Then rescue me.” 

“Didn’t I?” Hinata asks, voice low and affectionate. Nagito keeps his eyes closed. The bath water cuts off. The tub must be filled. A smaller, closer hiss- the detached showerhead. Gently, Hinata begins washing Nagito’s hair. 

“I know what you’re doing.” Hinata’s voice drags Nagito back from the edge of pleasant sleepiness, where nothing hurts and everything is warm. He blinks. 

“And knowing what I am, I know what he shall be,” Nagito murmurs drowsily. 

“You think this will even the odds a bit. If you suffer enough by choice, maybe your luck won’t turn. Lean back now.” Nagito obeys; a delightfully warm stream of water rinses out the conditioner. 

“It’s got to be balanced, Hinata. You know that’s true.” Nagito reprimands. 

“A thing can be true and still be desperate folly, Hazel.” Nagito opens his eyes just as Hinata scoops him up and dumps him into the tub. Sputtering, he comes up for air, one arm clinging to the side of the bath like an upset cat. Hinata sits back on his heels, still completely dressed, and looking very pleased with himself. 

“You’re reading it,” Nagito shakes like a dog, flinging water around the room. Hinata accepts the revenge placidly. 

“I am.” 

“Hm.” Nagito sinks into the hot water up to his chin. It feels like bliss, and only a little from the water. 

“Ten minutes, then you’re going to bed,” Hinata insists. “And if you go this hard again tomorrow, you’re getting an ice bath instead.” 

“Promises, promises.” Nagito blows bubbles into the bathwater. 

~~ 

After Nagito is dry and hydrated and wearing clean pajamas, Hinata goes back to his own cabin and Nagito lays himself gingerly on the bed. Something crinkles just under his head. Though his muscles are looser and obey him now with only a slight rebelliousness, he still winces when he reaches up under his pillow to draw out a neatly folded sheet of writing paper. 

_Come to Jabberwock Park tomorrow just before midnight. Tell no one._

~~

In his dreams, he goes to the park, but there is no one there. Disappointed, Nagito returns to his cabin for the night- and Hinata is waiting. 

This time, Hinata holds his head under the water for such a long, long time. 

He drowns. 

He dies. 

It is a most wonderful end to a wonderful day. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ~~  
> Reference Guide:
> 
> **Out, out-** \- a reference to Robert Frost’s poem of the same name, about a shocking and sudden death and how quick life can go, snuffed out like a candle. 
> 
> **The Black Rabbit of Inle-** the rabbit concept of Death from Watership Down. When the rabbit trickster god tries to bargain for the life of his people during a siege, the Rabbit tells him there are no bargains in death, as “what is is what must be.” Hinata quotes the work because he knows it in an abstract way, even if he has not personally read it. 
> 
> **Here a divided duty- paraphrase of “I do perceive here a divided duty”** \- a quote from Othello, when Desdemona is explaining to her father that she wants to obey him but also is in love with Othello and feels a wifely obligation to that. In this case, Hinata wants to keep putting pressure on Komaeda to eat well and take care of his mental health, but also is obligated to care for the other Despairs as their leader. 
> 
> **Raijo Taiso-** morning exercises, usually by radio broadcast that is common in Japan and other Asian countries. 
> 
> **I volunteer as tribute** \- Hunger Games reference to Katniss’ willingness to sacrifice herself. Komaeda’s readings aren’t limited to the classics. 
> 
> **Osu-** a verbalization that is tied to martial arts and sports culture in Japan. Basically it is a sound that means “yes,” or “go for it,” or can just be a sound of extreme exertion, like grunts made when lifting weights. Not considered polite, but is considered very spirited. 
> 
> **Rebellious hinds, the filth and scum of Kent,**  
>  **Mark'd for the gallows, lay your weapons down** \- paraphrased by Hinata, from Henry VI part 2. Sir Humphrey Stafford attempts to disarm a rebellion by giving this mostly empty threat. He is later defeated by the rebellion. Hinata says this jokingly to get Komaeda to stop rebelling and allow himself to be cared for. Komaeda points out that the rest of the quote is also ironic because he isn’t terminal any longer. 
> 
> **And knowing what I am, I know what (s)he shall be** \- A quote from Othello, spoken by Iago. It is meant to be a soothing lie that confirms his friendship with Othello and Desdemona’s deception, but actually is ironic because it has two meanings. Taken another way, Iago is confessing that his position is a lie set up deliberately to cause Desdemona’s unjustified murder. Komaeda paraphrases this quote to basically say that Hinata should know Komaeda well because he is so talented and because the worst is always true of Komaeda. More self-deprecation via Shakespeare.
> 
> **A thing can be true and still be desperate folly, Hazel** \- Watership Down quote, Fiver tells Hazel this when trying to explain that his visions have shown Cowslip’s warren to be a dangerous, deceptive place. 
> 
> Watership Down is my favorite book so now it is Komaeda's. I hope you like this so far. Not every chapter will be so allusion heavy.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've always felt that Komaeda would get on well with the girls. He's a little less invested in them somehow lol.

It’s worse, somehow, the next day. He’d been expecting it, of course, but reality put Nagito’s impressive imagination to shame… which is to say that when he goes to stand up out of bed, his legs buckle immediately, sending him crashing to the floor. 

“Ah,” Nagito says against the admittedly dusty rug.

He skips breakfast because he does not trust himself to keep it down. Instead, he spends the time slowly puttering around the room and putting things to order. He manages to wipe the bathtub and shake out the rug- though he does need to pause between each motion gravely to catch his breath. Nagito thinks that he might have been a little more functional back when he was dying, and the thought cheers him substantially. By the time he goes to meet Nidai, he is humming tunelessly and hardly even limping. 

Instead of the beach, this time they have agreed to meet in the old hotel building annex that Nidai and Owari have repurposed into a gym. Nagito looks around with great interest when he steps inside. The changes are functional and formative. He is disappointed, however, to see that the gaps beneath the floorboards have been expertly patched. Another life, that. 

Nidai lifts a dumbell idly while waiting, but he perks at the sight of Nagito entering the main room, tossing the equipment back into place. 

“Excellent!” He booms, self-satisfied. “Now take off your clothes!” 

Bemused, Nagito complies without hesitation. Nidai circles him closely, examining a deltoid here, a tendon there. It’s still a novelty to be studied so closely by an Ultimate. It both delights and disgusts him. Nagito gives a perverse little shiver. 

“Yes, I see. Yes!” Nidai throws his head back and laughs. Nagito wonders if that means he can put his pants back on. 

“What’s first on the agenda? Run drills? Push ups? Burpees?” Nagito asks eagerly. 

“Breakfast!” Nidai roars, tossing Nagito a thick terry cloth robe. 

It’s safe to assume, then, that pants are still not permitted. Stifling a sigh, Nagito dutifully puts it on. 

Breakfast is a protein shake and a fruit salad- “Vitamin C! Potassium! _Zinc!_ ” After that, Nagito is ushered into the sauna where his hair sops down and frizzes up in the humidity. Frowning, he tugs at his bangs in vain until Nidai’s stopwatch beeps, and then he is bodily carried over to an icy plunge pool and tossed in. The abrupt temperature shift, he must admit, he does not enjoy. After a brief and terrible twenty two seconds exactly, Nidai’s stopwatch beeps again and Nagito is dunked into a warm therapy pool, intense jets of water on all sides. Then it repeats. It all becomes something of a haze at that point, punctuated with beeps and cries to “Drink that sweet earth juice! HY-drate HY-drate” periodically. 

Eventually, Nidai tells him they’re done for the day after a blissfully intense deep tissue massage with heated stones. Nagito raises his head from the table with a dazed expression. While parts of this session were certainly less than pleasant, when Nagito leans down to pull on his pants (finally) he notes sourly that all his joints are terrifically limber, with a slight ache that is no more than a pleasant reminder of his previous exertion. 

Certainly this will even out later, he decides, when he must meet his mysterious letter-writer. Perhaps it is someone holding a grudge from the simulation. It has been some time since Nagito had been able to justifiably look froward to a glorious hope-filled end to his own life. It’s a bit nostalgic. 

“You’re in a suspiciously good mood,” Hinata notes over lunch. Nagito decides to reward himself by allowing Hinata’s company today. After all, it may be his last. 

“A personal massage from the Ultimate Team Manager would delight anyone, I’m sure.” 

“Anyone normal. I suppose it’s too much to hope that this physical training will develop into a point of pride for you?” 

“One should die proudly when it is no longer possible to live proudly,” Nagito says sweetly. 

“Ugh.” Hinata makes a face. “We’re so not doing Nietzsche.” 

“Fair.” Nagito agrees mildly. 

“Suspiciously easy-going, too.” Hinata notes. 

“I’m always this agreeable,” Nagito lies plainly. Hinata snorts.

“Then you won’t mind coming with me to check something out this afternoon.” 

“Oh?”

“Soda’s finished installing the emergency surveillance systems. They’re accessible through portable devices, of course- but I want you to check the central comms center with me. We set it up where they used to store the Psychotherapeutic Communication Simulator. Maybe your luck will suss out any weird glitches.” 

“Or it’ll fry the whole system irreparably,” Nagito points out. “But of course, I am ever at your disposal.” 

The systems do not fry. In fact, Nagito stumbles across a system error that causes an automatic shutdown when the G, 6, and F10 buttons are pressed at once, and that leaning on the Page Down button somehow begins a sequence to hijack the global broadcasting network used by the Futue Foundation. Hinata makes a note of it and carries on. 

“Are you going to tell me the actual reason you brought me here?” Nagito wonders. “Or shall I guess? Is it a game?”

“Everything is a game to you, I think. One I am perpetually losing.” Hinata raps on the monitor lightly with his knuckles. “I want you to know where this room is. I want you to be able to access it.”

Nagito arches an eyebrow. “To watch over the Ultimates? That’s a suspicious amount of power that you’re giving me. Sure I won’t abuse it?”

“I am one hundred percent certain that you will,” Hinata assures him. “Abuse of greatness is when it disjoins remorse from power.” 

“Then why?” Nagito sits in the chair before the monitors, spinning lightly. 

“Luck. Why else? Even if you only wander in here for selfish reasons, you’re most likely to see real problems in time to do something about it. I think when it comes down to it, you’ll look after everyone’s best interests.” 

“You don’t think your luck is strong enough?” Nagito asks, intrigued. 

“I think that I am one man, and my talents are spread rather thin at the moment. Your participation will greatly influence the statistical likelihood of a successful future.” He leans down seamlessly, pressing a thoughtless kiss to Nagito’s mouth. He draws away before Nagito has a chance to participate- or refuse to. 

Nagito makes a face instead. “You just want to keep me out of trouble.” 

“Two birds, one stone.” Hinata smirks. 

~~

Jabberwock Park is cold, this late. It’s all rather thrilling, sneaking out like a teenager in the middle of the night. 

Well, he assumes, anyway. Being an unlovable wealthy orphan had some benefits, mostly in lack of supervision or enforced restrictions as a teen. If Nagito had been the type to be attractive or mildly interesting or even just some degrees less repulsive, he might have had a time of it. 

Perhaps he’ll be reincarnated as someone marginally tolerable to polite society. Wildly unrealistic, but a hopeful dream nonetheless. 

At 11:45 on the dot, a shadow he hadn’t taken particular note of detaches itself from the side of the statue there- not, as in simulation, a twisted and wild beast, but rather some dull looking people with dull chipped faces and a plaque so ordinary that Nagito isn’t even sure what the statue is meant to commemorate. 

The shadow resolves itself into the shape of his doom, which distinctly resembles Pekoyama.

… it is Pekoyama. 

Embleer Frith. She is very unlikely to commit herself to such an odious task as a revenge killing. This must be some other kind of meeting. Interesting, to be sure, but still disappointing. 

“Good. You came.” Pekoyama nods in greeting. “I’ll be brief. I am compelled to pass my knowledge and skills on to another. Someone else must share the burden of protecting this island and its inhabitants. I have chosen you.” 

Nagito stares. “... _surely_ not.” 

She looks back, completely unperturbed by his response. Nagito would like to slip into a maddening hysterical laugh, but alas, they do not come to hand readily on cue. 

“Do you refuse?” Pekoyama asks. 

“It is an honor that I dream not of.” 

Pekoyama huffs. At first Nagito thinks he may be frustrating her, but after a moment he realizes that the small exhale is what passes for a laugh. “Shall I explain my thoughts on the matter?”

“I admit I am curious.” Nagito settles onto a bench, getting comfortable. Pekoyama remains standing, as if at lecture. 

“You are underweight and undernourished as well as having a slight build. Your musculature is not optimal.”

“Hinata’s musculature is optimal,” Nagito says dreamily. 

“That is it,” Pekoyama says amiably. There is a slight pause there as both mull over this agreeable conclusion. “And he is already skilled- but he is only one man. One extraordinary man, but alone in his talents nonetheless. Nidai does not possess the flexibility needed for this type of armed combat, and Owari lacks discipline. Masaru is promising, but Owari has already commandeered his training and it will be some time before he is skilled enough to attempt to master more than one. Are you in agreement thus far?” 

“By all means,” Nagito motions for her to continue. 

“While Saionji’s background in dance does make her a candidate physically, she does not have the temperament. None of the others have the physical capabilities of handling this level of training.” 

“And I do?”

“You can withstand a great deal of punishment.” Nagito nods at that. “I have observed your training with Nidai. I think it would be beneficial for your recovery to practice additional fine motor control with your prosthetic through swordplay. It will also be excruciatingly painful until your body adjusts accordingly.” 

That makes Nagito sit up and pay attention. “Go on.”

“You’ll be practicing repetitive movements utilizing both arms- something that will likely exacerbate phantom pain. Ischemia. Peripheral nerve irritation. All temporary and non-fatal, but extremely… unlucky.” 

Nagito rises. “Tempting. I see why no one else will do. Why me specifically, though?”

“Needs must, first and foremost, but the more I considered the proposition, the more appealing it became. You see, some physical strength is a prerequisite, but the most important factors to my set of skills is a mixture of precision and discipline. I think we both know that you are capable of great and terrible things. Your dedication, once obtained, is… admirable. And frightening. And what is precision if not luck?” 

~~

“Y-you’re sure that the training isn’t too much?” Tsumiki asks nervously. She is examining the connectors around Nagito’s prosthetic at their weekly check-in. The area is painful and inflamed- and that is after he’d held the end of his limb in an ice bath for twenty minutes just before the appointment. It's been a week under his new routine: morning training with Nidai, library time alongside Sonia alternating with afternoons in the surveillance room, a resigned dinner with Hinata, and night training with Pekoyama. He hasn't even touched a weapon yet; still working on his balance and basic footwork. Still, it's enough to leave him breathless and limp and feels punishment enough, for now. He'd always liked Pekoyama. Wonderfully practical girl. 

“It looks worse than it feels,” Nagito lies. “Where’s your nurse’s nurse?”

“Imposter is having a date with Mioda,” Tsumiki says, spreading a cooling salve over the ends of his upper arm where it meets the robotic limb. “Then he’s sitting with Mitarai tonight.”

“Is he still self-isolating? I haven’t seen him since Mioda’s recital.” 

“It’s a difficult for him. R-Remember, we had time to accept what we are. He’s had to pretend out there for years and years. And we can be…. overwhelming…” Tsumiki trails off, fingers stilling, her face vague. 

“Company, even with the best, is soon wearisome and dissipating.” Nagito notes. “I suppose it must be hard for him. He’s the only one of us who never really became a Despair, and yet, without him, none of us would have fallen.” 

“H-he thinks we must hate him.” Tsumiki finishes her task briskly, screwing the lid back on the salve with careful fingers. “Secretly. But I know better.”

“Do you?”

“Mm. Y-you were always trouble, Komaeda-kun. Even after we fell, you fought her in your own t-terrible way. I didn’t n-need Mitarai’s video to fall for Junko. It just made everything happen a little faster, that’s all. If she had been a little nice to me, I would have been Despair anyway.” She smiles at him brightly. “Lollipop?” 

Nagito takes a grape one. 

~~

"You think you're so clever," Hinata tells him, walking him back to his cabin later. 

"I would never." Nagito looks scandalized. 

"Whatever. Try not to break yourself." He opens the door for Nagito. "That's probably as much as I'm going to get from you." 

"If you look for perfection, you’ll never be content. Did you want to come in for a cup of coffee?" Nagito asks sweetly. 

"Tell Peko I said hi," Hinata says, closing the door in his face. 

...Nagito really is crazy about that guy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ~~
> 
> Reference Guide:
> 
> **One should die proudly when it is no longer possible to live proudly** \- quote from philosopher Friedrich Nietzsche, well known for his extreme nihilism. Komaeda quotes him deliberately to annoy Hinata, as Komaeda’s hopefulness is basically the opposite of Nietzche’s writings. 
> 
> **abuse of greatness is when it disjoins remorse from power** \- from Julius Caesar, Brutus uses as part of his reasoning for why he turns on Caesar and joins in the murderous betrayal. Hinata is calling Komaeda remorseless, and saying that basically even though he knows Komaeda will probably use some of the information for his own selfish purposes, it’s a weighed and acceptable cost. 
> 
> **Embleer Frith** \- Lapine language cursing, like goddammit. Translates literally to Stinking God, or Screw God. From Watership Down. 
> 
> **it is an honour that I dream not of** \- Juliet’s response in Romeo and Juliet when she is asked if she will marry Paris. It is a way to say that she does not think about marriage at all- here Nagito is both saying he does not want to and also does not understand why Pekoyama would want it either. 
> 
> **Company, even with the best, is soon wearisome and dissipating** \- Thoreau quote from Walden, Or Life In The Woods, a book of nonfiction reflections on self-imposed solitude. Mitarai is also self-isolating in order to better come to terms with himself and his situation as a newly minted Despair. 
> 
> **If you look for perfection, you’ll never be content.** \- from Tolstoy's Anna Karenina, a novel about a woman who ruins her life and social standing by pursing an inappropriate extramarital romance. Nagito is flirting but also telling Hinata that he'll ruin Hinata's life.


	3. Chapter 3

“Someone off-island wants to talk to me?” Nagito asks, incredulously. “On purpose?” 

Hinata stifles a sigh. “People do that,” he says dryly. 

“ _You_ do that, Hinata. Not many takers for… obvious reasons. The others here can’t help it- Misery acquaints a man with strange bedfellows.” 

“I would, if you wanted- but we’ve agreed that I’m a little close to the situation for objectivity.” 

“What kind of situation am I?” Nagito asks, eyes wide and expression fake-sweet as he sidles closer. 

“SNAFU, clearly.” Hinata puts an arm around Nagito. “You don’t have to, but I think you’ll find it interesting. The Future Foundation has an agent who requested to be your point of contact.” 

Nagito perks. “Is it-” 

“ _Not_ Naegi.” Hinata sounds amused. “He’s mine, I’m afraid.” 

“Pity. But that’s a nice image all the same.” Nagito settles back into Hinata’s arm, suppressing a wince when the neat bruise on his ribs presses just so against Hinata’s elbow. Perfect. 

“Jealous?” 

“Deathly so.” Nagito says flippantly. He is and he isn’t. He wants Hinata’s undivided love and attention, of course, but sometimes even that doesn’t seem like enough. Nagito wants to _be_ Hinata, to be wanted beyond love and hate and respect. Awe, wielded with a careless hand. He loves the way the others look at Hinata. He hates the way the others look at Hinata. He wants to cut Hinata open and crawl into his skin like a parasite, to connect with him on a visceral, cellular level. Nagito wants to bathe in his blood. 

They kiss gently on the overlook before heading their separate ways for the day. It’s very picturesque. 

~~

That evening, at the appointed time, Nagito steps into the communications room where the emergency surveillance systems are housed. The building is otherwise deserted, for privacy. He sits in the office chair before the monitors and after a few moments, the overhead display flickers to life. 

Kyoko Kirigiri blinks back at him from behind her desk on screen, slender hands steepled together in their plain black gloves, elbows on the desktop. 

“Ultimate Detective,” Nagito greets her with reverence. “Truly an honor.” 

“Komaeda. Thank you for agreeing to speak with me.” 

“Certainly, I am flattered at your attentions. Shall we begin the interrogation?” 

“Is that what you believe this to be?” Her voice is coolly neutral. 

“What else? You’ve surely deduced that I am the most dangerous of the Despairs and have decided to keep tabs accordingly. Understandable. I shouldn’t want to leave a wretch like me unchecked either.” 

“ _Are_ you the most dangerous of the Despairs?” 

Nagito smirks. “The least predictable, anyway.” 

“I can’t say that I agree.” 

“You find me predictable?” 

“I find that most prescribe to a pattern of behavior- if you can deduce the pattern, the element of surprise is… lessened.” 

“And I have a pattern.” Nagito presses. 

“You have Hajime Hinata.” Kirigiri flattens her palms against the table and her already impeccable posture becomes, somehow, even more pronounced. “I do not believe that you would do anything to risk his vision or his happiness. We are alike in that, I think… and in other ways. Do please sit down, Komaeda.” 

Nagito, unaware that he’d half-risen during their exchange, sinks back down into the chair. “Naegi, you mean.” 

“Yes.” 

“Alright.” Nagito shakes his head. “Go ahead, fire away.” 

Kirgiri fixes him with that steely gaze. Nagito feels a pleasant sort of bubbling urge welling up- to make a confession so dark and desperate that her expression crumples into delicious disgust. 

She shakes her head slightly. “....No. No, I don’t think I will. Rather…”

“Rather?” Nagito asks, a little disappointed. 

“Perhaps you would like to be in charge of this interrogation?” 

“...I am sorry, I am stupid and confused.” Nagito parrots automatically. 

“To initiate a trusting and collaborative relationship, it would be beneficial to first establish rapport. You seem uncomfortable with providing intimate details in early acquaintance. Perhaps if you were the one to initiate questioning this session, we could follow a more natural evolution at subsequent meetings.” 

Nagito blinks, then raises an eyebrow. “Knowledge can be dangerous, Detective.” 

“I’m aware.” Kirigiri smiles then, a small upward press of lips, here and gone. 

“You said that we’re alike,” Nagito recalls. Kirigiri inclines her head, agreeing silently. “Are you in love with Naegi, Detective?” 

“I love Naegi in every way a person can love another. I love him as a leader, as an icon, as a brother-in-arms, and as a man.” Kirigiri answers immediately without a shred of self-consciousness. 

Nagito relaxes into his chair. Honesty. How interesting. “Are you together?” 

“We are not.” Kirigiri is firm. 

“Why?” 

“The situation is... complicated. Naegi and your Hinata are somewhat similar, but Hinata is more… practical. In some ways I envy you that. Naegi is soft in many ways. It is what makes him so very effective as a figurehead, but… a lover… well. There is the Sayaka problem, you see.” 

“Sayaka Maizono?” Nagito asks. He remembers her- flashy little thing, all sparkles and long hair. _She_ hadn’t lasted long, now had she? Was that impressive or disappointing? Hard to say. 

“Yes. I was not Naegi’s first love either, you know.” 

The two exchange a meaningful look. 

“You were in love with him before the Killing Game. But you weren’t going to tell him.” Nagito guesses. 

Kirigiri’s expression is slightly vague. “Do you know why I came to Hope’s Peak?” 

“To investigate the strange happenings at your father’s request. How impractical, calling his teenage daughter in to correct his own Junko and Kamukura flavored mistakes.” Nagito points out scornfully. 

“It appears that my father was an inordinately impractical man.” Kirigiri blinks slowly in amusement. “And that was the primary reason, though Naegi has suggested that my father asked me here in some misguided attempt to protect me. And I, of course, came to unravel the mystery and to cut ties with him altogether. But do you know why my grandfather allowed me to come to Hope’s Peak?” 

“Enlighten me.” Nagito waves her on. 

“It made no difference to Grandfather if I helped my father or left him to stew in his own regretful mistakes. He had his own entirely separate reasons for wanting me to attend Hope’s Peak. The Kirigiri family is very traditional. We’re highly thought of, highly trained- thoroughbreds. We’ve been a family of prestigious detectives for generations, but that necessitates a certain financial independence. We cannot be held accountable to police procedurals or as private investors with client agenda. We must only ever be beholden to the truth.” 

“You were rich husband-hunting.” Nagito laughs a little at the thought. 

“Do you think they would trust a fifteen year old girl with such a momentous task? By the time I was to attend Hope’s Peak, a suitable husband had already been chosen for me. Our school years would be a chance for us to learn of each other and grow accustomed to our eventual union.” 

“Byakuya.” Nagito’s eyes fairly dance. “You were supposed to marry a Togami.” He imagines Naegi’s face, learning of this. How it would crumple, eyes darting between his two closest confidants- hope and despair, in equal measure. 

“It was a bloodless little agreement. Two children, one to heir Togami, one to heir Kirigiri. The rest was unimportant. Incidental, even.” Kirigiri sounds bored. 

“So Togami knew.”

“He forgot, during the game, the same way we forgot it all. But yes, before, he knew everything. Say what you will about him, but he is quite observant. One reason I did not object to the match.” 

“He didn’t care that you were in love with someone else?”

“I think he found it reassuring that I wouldn’t bother him with romantic notions. And…” Here, she hesitates. 

“And?” Nagito prompts. 

“And he knew I would not have told Naegi even if I weren’t engaged.” Kirigiri looks away. 

“Sayaka Maizono.” Nagito repeats. 

“Indeed.”

A short silence, mulling things over. 

“He loves you.” Nagito says. It isn’t reassuring because it’s fact. 

“Oh yes. How could he choose differently, when I am always there? We’ve gone through so much together. It must be me, or it must be no one.” Kirigiri closes her eyes. “It’s a blood soaked happiness, our future. It’s built on the bones of Naegi’s dead lover. He’ll put it off as long as he possibly can. Not like your Hinata.” 

Nagito smiles without mirth. “I hope he wakes up tomorrow and changes his mind. I hope he falls in love with someone else. I hope this is a fever dream and I’m dying in a pod somewhere.” 

Kirigiri’s voice is warm. “Wouldn’t that be lucky?” 

~~

Training, monitoring. Hinata, Kirigiri. Nagito hurts all the time at first, and that is a marvelous reassurance. He can afford small kindnesses to himself, then. But as his muscles grow used to the punishment, his apprehension too grows stronger. 

“You’re not as precise as I’d like,” Pekoyama notes. “I think swordplay is not your specialty.” 

“I did tell you that trash like me was unsuitable for anything,” Nagito says triumphantly, bent nearly double and breathing heavily. 

“Here.” Pekoyama throws something at him and he catches it, automatically. It’s a weapon, but not a sword. 

“What is this?” Nagito examines it curiously. It’s a short, squat bar- when he curls his hand along the handle, it extends. 

“Stun baton,” Pekoyama explains, amused by his confusion. “Striking with the sides along down to the handle will induce a mild shock. The tip and the handle remain uncharged- treated rubber. Lightweight and retractable.” 

“You want me to hit you with this?” Nagito asks, brows narrowed. 

“I want you to try.” Pekoyama smiles at him. 

So he does. Though weeks pass by, he never seems to get any closer- but his breathing is easier and the baton feels lighter, and his arm, where it connects to the prosthetic, aches less and less. 

Nagito stops looking at Nidai’s progression charts. 

He spends too much time in the communication room. 

“I didn’t tell you where this was so that you could go into exile.” 

Nagito doesn’t look up from the screen but he counts each one of Hinata’s footsteps from behind. Closer and closer. 

“Don’t touch me,” Nagito says automatically, when he hears movement behind him. Hinata puts his hand back down at his side thoughtfully instead. 

“Soda and Mioda are asking about you. The Mega Mecha Maru launch was today.” 

“I know,” Nagito says evenly. “I saw.” 

“From here?”

“From a safe distance away.” Nagito smiles blandly at the monitor. “It’s experimental, isn’t it? An underwater mechanized, pressurized suit to build underwater tunnels connecting all the islands. You could probably think of one or two or ten thousand different ways a little bad luck could go a long way.” 

“Or a little good luck,” Hinata murmurs, almost in his ear. “Come on, Komaeda. Come with me down to the docks.” 

Nagito spins in his chair suddenly, face only inches away from Hinata but it doesn’t leave the pleasant queasiness he’s used to. Instead he has to swallow down even to speak, eyes flashing. 

“What are you _doing?_ ” He demands. “They don’t know, or they don’t remember, or they’re pretending not to, but _you-_ ”

“Me?” Hinata straightens, brow scrunching. 

“You know. You _know,_ Kamukura knows what my luck is capable of, why are you-” Nagito cuts himself off, shutting his mouth tight and turning his face sharply away. Looking at Hinata is too much, suddenly. 

“Are we fighting?” Hinata asks, bemused. 

“I wouldn’t dare,” Nagito mutters petulantly, facing the monitors. “Who am I to challenge your impeccable decision making process?” 

Hinata laughs. 

Nagito considers, briefly, whether or not hitting Hinata with the keyboard will be worthwhile. No, he decides eventually. The keys will surely fly all over, and with his luck, be stuck in some terrible, dusty crevice. Still, it’s quite tempting. Hinata might even be distracted enough to let the blow connect. 

“I’m sorry,” Hinata says after a moment. Nagito pointedly ignores him. 

“No, Komaeda, I mean it. Look at me.” Nagito glares up. “There.” Hinata is smiling at him a little, but not cruelly. “You’re right, I wasn’t listening. I’m sorry, you know your luck best. It’s not that I don’t believe you, it’s just that I think if some luck backlash _is_ going to happen, it won’t wait for you. It’s both inevitable and preventable. Schrodinger’s Luck?” 

“I suppose my useless fretting is quite amusing.” Nagito snipes. Hinata has no right to look affectionate at that. 

“You are very amusing, but that’s not why I laughed. I’m just glad you can be angry with me.” 

“What does that mean?” Nagito asks in spite of himself. 

“Doesn’t that mean you expect to be treated better than that?” Hinata points out kindly. “Doesn’t it mean that you want me to respect your opinion?” 

Nagito, speechless, stares up at Hinata. Hinata, who has the temerity, the _audacity_ to blush attractively. 

“Nagito-” 

A flicker, in the far monitor. The one near the back of the third island, the dock there in disrepair and half falling into the sea. Movement in the waves. Nagito reaches out with his human right hand absently, pushing against Hinata’s mouth to quiet him, the left hand skittering with robotic efficiency against the keyboard. The monitor order shifts, bringing up Camera 16E up on the main display and zooming in. 

“What is that?” Hinata frowns, pulling Nagito’s hand away from his lips but continuing to hold it, almost automatically. “It’s a boat?” 

“It’s a boat,” Nagito agrees. 

~~

By the time they get the ferry up, a few others have joined their little expedition. Soda steers the boat toward the third island while Kuzuryu taps one foot impatiently against the wooden floor. He’d been insistent on coming, and on not telling Pekoyama. Hanamura had made a fifth, but an ill-timed joke about ‘trouble in paradise’ had led Kuzuryu to throw him summarily off the boat and into the shallow waters of the bay. 

Hinata takes point, sweeping across the shore and the now-empty schooner gently bobbing in the shallows. It’s a ritzy little boat but in poor condition.

“Dinghie like that ain’t supposed to be in open waters,” Kuzuryu notes. “They had to be pretty hard up, sailin’ out here like that.” 

“You two, go around west. We’ll sweep east.” Hinata gestures and Soda and Kuzuryu do as they are told. Nagito and Hinata continue toward the old hospital. 

“Don’t trust me on my own?” Nagito murmurs. 

“If your luck is on the edge, having mine around might temper it.” Hinata explains. “No need to tempt fate, right?” 

“Men sometimes are masters of their fates,” Nagito remarks. 

“And rabbits have the will to accept their fate.” Hinata counters. Nagito scowl, turning his face away. As he does so, he spies movement in the tall, overgrown grass outside the hospital gate. He reaches out, catching Hinata by the sleeve, directing his attention back. 

It’s a girl, maybe seven or a malnourished nine. She sits in the grass rather like a rabbit herself, eyes wide white all around, staring up at them. She is trembling, or perhaps the grass is blowing around her. 

“It’s alright,” Hinata says in a low voice, showing both his hands. He takes a slow step forward. 

A click behind them. 

A man, wild eyed, and a woman hanging off his arm. Their clothes are rough, worn through, and sea-stiff with salt. The man is pointing a gun at them. 

Nagito steps to the side, away from Hinata. The man swivels between them, gun raising up to point at him instead. He fumbles with the trigger. 

Hinata is there and then he isn’t, across the short distance in a heartbeat, pushing the barrel of the gun skyward and flipping the grip out of the man’s hand and into his own. The man scrambles backward in fear, nearly falling. The woman catches him, pulls him into her arms. 

Hinata smoothly removes the clip and tosses it to the man who flinches back. Hinata, nonplussed, puts the gun into his own waistband. Nagito raises an eyebrow admiringly. Hinata, ever observant, rolls his eyes. 

“We aren’t here to hurt you. Why did you come?” Hinata asks brusquely. He steps back enough to allow a clear path for the man and the woman to get to the girl- their daughter. She has his eyes, his mother’s dark hair. They pull her close and quake, silently. 

Hinata swallows down a sigh. 

“Patience, good sir.” Nagito reminds him quietly, and Hinata softens slightly. “State your name and business, if you please.” Nagito says a bit louder, addressing the others. He smiles pleasantly. 

“Who wants to know?” The man asks, full of bravado. Nagito is quite impressed, the man’s voice only cracks once or twice. 

“Come now,” Nagito says easily. “Surely you know where you are? The Island of Despair.” The man tenses. “I’m sure you can make a _lucky guess._ ”

“Wakabayashi?” Kuzuryu pushes past the two of them, dropping to one knee in the dirt beside the man who relaxes completely with boneless, utter relief. 

“You know him?” Hinata asks. 

“He’s one of mine- _was_ one mine, before- What the hell are you doin’ here? Why do you got the girls with you?” 

~~

The story comes slow and halting. After the Despairs were taken by Naegi’s rogues for re-education, the rest of the Future Foundation wasted no time reclaiming the territories for their allies and enterprises. It had been bloody and thorough- but not complete. A few of the Followers of Despair, desperate to survive, took to the seas. 

“They ain’t gonna be the only ones,” Kuzuryu finished grimly. “Whatcha wanna do?” 

Hinata frowns. “We’ll prioritize restructuring the third island. If we concentrate our efforts, it should be livable within a few days. Radio Soda and tell him Operation Atlantis is going to have to wait for now.” 

“Are we taking in refugees now?” Nagito asks. 

“Do we have another option?” Hinata counters. 

“Always,” Nagito smiles. “But not for you, sweet Hinata.” 

“Is this good luck or bad luck?” Hinata asks. 

“Isn’t it obvious?” Nagito laughs softly. He lets Hinata hold his hand, on the ride back. Might as well enjoy it, he figures. 

Soon it will be too late.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ~~Sparknotes~~
> 
>  **Misery acquaints a man with strange bedfellows** \- the Tempest, a quote when Stephano, the servant who tries to plan a mutiny, ends up shipwrecked by a sea monster. In this case, Komaeda is the sea monster. 
> 
> **SNAFU** \- American Military acronym for Situation Normal: All Fucked Up. Hinata is teasing Komaeda for fishing for compliments. He’s also letting Komaeda know that messed up is the new normal so therapy is a logical next step. 
> 
> **Men at some time are masters of their fates** \- Julius Ceasar, speaking to Brutus and making the argument that individual actions count more than a plan from god or the universe. Nagito is being ironic since he does not think actions can overrule the power of his luck cycle. 
> 
> **Rabbits need dignity and, above all, the will to accept their fate** \- Watership Down quote from the brainwashed rabbits who are willingly allowing the farmer to sacrifice some of them for the greater good. Hinata uses this quote to compare Komaeda to a rabbit- that he is running scared from his luck, more or less. 
> 
> **Patience, good sir.** \- Roderigo from Othello, before trying to get Othello in trouble. Nagito is using the words to both calm Hinata and to remind him to be on his guard.


	4. Chapter 4

Progress is coming along nicely on the third island barracks, and none too soon. The Followers of Despair trickle in steadily, with haunted eyes and unhappy mouths. They flinch away from all but their chosen Despairs and it takes much coaxing and prodding for them to integrate. Nagito, of course, has no followers. This leads him a certain freedom in moving around the third island without causing much difficulty. Hinata, the ghost of Kamukura, fares much the same. It is the two of them who get the newcomers settled, who assigns them work and decides paltry inconveniences like rations or shifts for using the communal baths. 

“You’re quiet lately,” Hinata notes. 

“We’ve been busy,” Nagito not-answers. 

He still makes time for training. At first, it was to soothe the Ultimates. Pekoyama and Nidai needed the structure; Nagito has always been an excellent outlet. But even has his muscles firmed and his frame filled out, breathing and moving with more ease and fluidity, it too provides a sort of unearned comfort for Nagito. 

“You’re lookin’ good lately,” Soda says, grabbing Nagito by his human wrist, raising his arm out and letting it drop with an appreciative whistle. 

“Hot boy summer,” Mioda agrees, lifting the corner of Nagito’s t-shirt. “Are these abs? Do you have _abs_ now?!” Enthusiastically, she attempts to disrobe him. 

“Focus, Ibuki.” Soda snaps his fingers and she sits up at attention. “Didn’t you want to launch the Mega Mecha Maru?” 

Ibuki bounds over, taking the complicated controlling device from Soda eagerly. Soda winks conspiratorially at Nagito who straightens his clothing, getting to his feet. 

Mioda presses a complicated sequence of buttons and an enormous mechanical suit rises off the dock, plunging into the water below. An ill-timed wave strikes the pier. It catches the awning over Mioda that protects the equipment, falls just short of Nagito, and completely drenches Soda. 

Soda eyes Nagito with a frown as he wrings out the bottom of his shirt. “Yeah, yeah. Should have expected that.” He hesitates. “Did Kirigiri mention anything about Towa City?” 

“Hm? No.” Nagito is surprised. “Did something happen.”

Soda chews his lower lip thoughtfully. “Dunno. Thought she might know.” 

“I can try to find out,” Nagito offers. 

“What for?” Soda asks suspiciously. 

“The power of friendship,” Nagito says dryly, but it comes out a little fondly. 

Soda relaxes. “It’s probably nothing, but… Fukawa. Toko? Komaru’s serial killer friend, she’s missing.” 

Nagito frowns thoughtfully. 

“I mean that chick can take care of herself, right? But I guess after all the work she did the Future Foundation formally rejected affiliation with her. Too much baggage or somethin’. Anyway, she was pretty het up, Komaru says. She headed back to Towa to cool her head, but…” 

“But she didn’t get there,” Nagiti hazards a guess. “Or no one there has seen her.” 

“Yeah, that.” 

“I’ll see what I can find out.” Nagito says agreeably. “Maybe I’ll get lucky.” 

“I’m glad you’re not hidin’ anymore. We got used to having you around.” Soda says abruptly, looking over at Mioda stoically. 

“Did you miss me?” Nagito asks sweetly. 

“Kinda.” Soda admits. “You decide to quit running from your fate or whatever?” 

“Kinda.” Nagito echoes. Then, almost to himself, “I am the Fates’ lieutenant; I act under orders.” 

“Eh.” Soda scratches the side of his neck uneasily. “I ain’t Hinata, so I don’t do so hot with all that weird shit. But aren’t we all, like, captains of our fate? Or something.” He looks embarrassed. 

Nagito blinks, then smiles with genuine pleasure. “It matters not how strait the gate, how charged with punishments the scroll,” he quotes. “I am the master of my fate, I am the captain of my soul.” 

“Hey, that’s nice,” Soda says with a crooked grin. “You ought to write that down or something.” 

“Perhaps I will,” Nagito agrees, amused. 

~~

“How are things coming along?” Hinata asks from behind the desk. He’s writing up the duty rosters, keeping meticulous notes that Mitarai will program in later, happy to help from behind his computer screen so long as the human contact remains minimal. It’s mundane, paperwork. Nagito would like to sweep it to the floor and crawl across the desk. Maybe slip underneath it, while Hinata is working. Test that Ultimate focus. 

“Swimmingly,” Nagito says brightly. “The Mega Mecha Maru was able to increase seafood production by 63%, just as you predicted.” 

Hinata nods, satisfied with the report. “And how are Soda and Mioda?” He asks solicitously. 

“Energetic.” 

Hinata smiles, finishing his paper and setting the stack aside. 

“Are you free?”

“For you, Hinata?” Nagito eyes the desk. “Anytime.” 

“Take a walk with me. I could use some air.” Hinata stretches and Nagito admires the straight lines of his back through his dress shirt. 

Hinata leads Nagito past Jabberwock Park, up to the rocky side of mountain that in-game was the site of the trial. Here it is just a neglected side of sheet rock with a disused path winding up to the highest point of the island. It would be quite a difficult hike for most, but Hinata is nimble and balanced, not even breaking a sweat, hands tucked neatly into his pockets. Nagito, too, is surprised to find that he is not even out of breath after the treacherous climb. The training, of course. 

From here, Hinata and Nagito can look out across the water. Most of the islands are distant, indistinct except for large buildings or structures, but still recognizable. 

Hinata sits on the guard railing and Nagito sits next to him, close enough to touch. 

“What do you want, Komaeda?” Hinata asks. 

“Whatever you’ll give me,” Nagito answers promptly. 

Hinata rolls his eyes. “From _life._ ” 

“Hinata.” Nagito’s voice is mildly reproachful. “Whatever you’ll give me.” His voice is softer but emphatic. Hinata stares at him a moment. Then he gives into some impulse, putting his arm around Nagito and pulling him in close. 

“What do you want from life, Hinata?” Nagito prompts, nuzzling into Hinata’s side. 

“It’s stupid,” Hinata warns. 

“Maybe,” Nagito concedes. “But indulge me anyway.” 

Hinata massages Nagito’s arm thoughtfully. “I thought I wanted to survive. To take responsibility.” 

“For the Despairs?” 

“Yes, at first. But now…” He looks out over the water. A half dozen tiny refugee boats bobble by the second island, moving in the tide. 

“Words, words, words.” Nagito teases. Hinata stands, still looking out, but when he turns back to Nagito, his face is grave. 

“I want this to be a place for second chances. For this to be haven for those at the end of their rope, with nowhere to go. Not just a hiding place from the world. I want this place to be _real._ ” 

Nagito wonders if Hinata knows what he looks like, against the blue sea and the darkening sky. He wonders if Hinata knows what kind of face he is making, or that Nagito is weak to it. Or if Hinata knows that he could have asked in any place in any way, and Nagito was always going to have the same answer. 

“Island of misfit toys. Alright, then.” Nagito stands too, brushing the dust off the back of his jeans. 

“Just like that?” Hinata asks, puzzled. 

“Just like that.” Nagito says agreeably. 

“If it’s you, of course, Hinata, I am sure it will be a success.” 

Hinata frowns doubtfully. “I really am serious.” 

“Of course you are. You’re a serious type. So why don’t you tell me what’s bothering you about it?” Nagito asks reasonably. 

“It never ends well, does it?” Hinata asks rhetorically. “Headmaster Kirigiri. Munakata. Tengan.” 

Nagito shakes his head. “The doom lies in yourself, not in your name. Kirigiri was weak willed and indecisive. Munakata was ignorant and determined to stay that way. And Tengan trusted no one except himself and his own manipulations. You’re nothing like them.” 

“Grand ideas and grand failures. This could go very badly.” 

“Screw your courage to the sticking place.” Nagito grins broadly. “I won’t let it.” 

“You won’t?” Hinata asks, half-veiled hope. 

“No. That’s why you’re telling me, isn’t it?” 

“No.” Hinata’s voice is as firm as his grip when he takes Nagito by the hand. “I’m telling you because this is important to me, and you’re important to me too.” 

“How romantic.” 

“I can be a lot more romantic if you’d let me.” Hinata’s voice is neutral but his gaze is intense. Nagito looks away first. 

“Maybe later,” he says flippantly. 

“Listen to me.” Hinata says seriously. “You’re not Sakakura or Yukizome or Ikusaba. You’re not _dispensable._ And if I have to choose, I will choose you.” 

Nagito closes his eyes at the onslaught, holding a hand up between them. “That’s… too much,” he says weakly. 

“It’s not, but it doesn’t matter. It won’t come to that.” Hinata sounds confident now. “I have these talents for a reason. I think I can pull it off. I can keep this place safe… and you too.” 

“Even if my luck is the thing that puts us all at risk?” Nagito asks. 

“You wouldn't abandon ship in a storm just because you couldn't control the winds.” Hinata grins at him. 

Nagito rolls his eyes but smiles back in spite of himself. 

~~

“Miss Sonia, how do you even _know_ what your talent is?” Jataro asks, hand in the air. 

“Detailed analysis based on multiple factors. It is the complex equation.” Sonia answers promptly. Nagito listens in shamelessly as he continues shelving books. There’s more demand, now, with the new residents, so today most of his time will be spent in the library. The Dewey Decimal System, Sonia assures him, is the very backbone of civilization. 

“Nagito doesn’t agree,” Kotoko says brightly from the back. Nagito looks up and the girl grins at him cheekily. 

“First names for adults is a bit…” Sonia trails off uncertainly. Kotoko is peaking in her pre-teen brattiness stage, something that is off-putting to nearly all of the Despairs but that Nagito finds rather precious. 

“I would never disagree with someone as learned and skilled as Sonia,” Nagito says smoothly. “The Hope Peak system of talent allocation and measurement is highly scientific.” 

“But?” Nagisa prompts. Masaru giggles at him.

“You said butt,” Masaru mumbles between snickers. Nagisa elbows him. 

“It’s a debatable topic. That means there’s evidence for multiple perspectives.” Nagito explains. 

“What is the perspective of difference, Komaeda?” Sonia looks at him brightly, not at all put off. “This will be, I think, a valuable lesson, yes?”

“No,” Nagito says automatically. “I mean, probably not from someone like me. But, well… I think Hope’s Peak was better at identifying the talented rather than the talent.” 

Sonia motions him over and Nagito shelves the last book with a sigh before joining them. He smiles weakly at the children who look at him with angelic attention, satisfied with their successful derailment of today’s lessons.

“Take one of the Ultimates. Someone with a straightforward talent. Let’s say… Koizumi. Do you know what her talent is?”

“Photography,” Jataro sniffles. 

“Exactly,” Nagito beams. 

“Boring,” Kotoko slumps in her chair with exaggerated distaste. “And freckles are _so_ uncute.” 

Nagito shoots her a sharp, sudden glance that Kotoko avoids, slumping down further in her chair. 

Monaca had had a slight smattering of freckles across the bridge of her nose. 

“But then, what is photography? As a skill, I mean. It’s not just the ability to pick up a camera. It’s recognition of light, composition, subject. It’s the ability to manipulate imagery through position or digital overlays or even manual physical development of film to reflect a particular feeling. Those skills could be applied elsewhere, don’t you think?”

The children mull this over for a moment. 

“Like, uh…” Masaru starts, then gets self conscious when they all look at him. “Ads?” 

It is Sonia’s turn to beam. “What a good example!” Masaru turns red and mumbles, looking away. “Koizumi would be a very successful advertising director, though I think she might consider that to be the selling out.” 

“So you’re saying that there’s a bunch of skills you got to have to be an Ultimate in anything,” Kotoko asks suddenly. “So how do you measure that?” 

“You can’t,” Nagisa says primly. “There are too many factors.” And it’s such a Hinata moment that Nagito has to cough to hide his delighted expression. 

“Talents don’t matter then?” Jataro wonders out loud. “If I’m not an Ultimate anything, that’s okay?” 

“That’s okay,” Nagito agrees placidly. Sonia stares. 

After the children have been rounded up by Nidai and Owari for a PE lesson, Sonia approaches Nagito at the circulation desk. 

“You are the last person I would suspect of saying the encouraging words. Aren’t talents the most important of things for you?” Sonia asks, leaning a little into his space. 

“Of course,” Nagito agrees. 

“So you were saying a lie?”

“Surely not,” Nagito smiles. “It would be a lie, if I were speaking to any child. But those are Junko’s children, her ‘Warriors of Hope.’ They will all develop the most shining and beautiful talents, I am sure. She would never choose failures.” 

Sonia’s smile falters. She stands up rather quickly. “I must go,” she says uneasily, excusing herself with only the barest pretense. 

Nagito cheerfully begins updating the card catalogue. 

~~

Nagito is still feeling rather well later on, heading to spar with Pekoyama. He’s improved greatly and can block nearly all fatal attacks with relative accuracy, but he has yet to land even a single lucky hit on his instructor. His luck, it seems, is simply no match for her Ultimate Talent- which is how it should be. 

Still, he’s noticed over the past few weeks that when Pekoyama is feeling fatigued, she tends to list slightly to the left. Twice last practice, she had flinched, giving him a momentary advantage that he failed to press home. She had assured him that she was well, and that these deliberate openings were all part of his training. 

That meant, of course, that he needed to be vigilant. He could not let her down. Nagito must follow through. 

The sun is just sinking over the horizon, bathing the sky in bright colors. Purple and ruby, matching the steady gaze of Pekoyama, bamboo sword at the ready. Nagito flicks out his baton, the familiar charge thrumming up the side. 

“Ready?” Pekoyama asks. 

“Ready.” Nagito answers. 

And then they are moving. Pekoyama brings the sword in, sweeping upward in a wide arc that Nagito easily steps back from, knocking the weapon aside with his baton lightly. An opening parry, to establish a rhythm. He answers by dropping down, bringing his leg out to kick at Pekoyama while her sword is aside, but she spins, blocking the blow with an upward bend of her elbow. 

Back and forth, across the sand. Blow, parry, step, part. Then it happens. 

Pekoyama pauses slightly, eyes shifting to the side. Her guard shifts too, An opening. 

It isn’t as though Nagito _wants_ to hurt her. He’s never enjoyed hurting things with his own two hands. 

One quick tap to her midsection. Enough to count for a ‘kill.’ She’ll be so proud of him. 

The blow does not connect. Just as the baton should slip past her defenses and strike her stomach, something- _someone_ \- grabs Nagito by the back of his shirt and wheels him around. Kuzuryu rocks back on his heels for momentum, then punches Nagito squarely in the face. 

Nagito fumbles, dropping his baton and falling heavily on his side in the sand. Kuzuryu, gritting his teeth, squats over him. He grabs the front of Nagito’s shirt and Nagito doesn’t even think to defend himself, too confused at this turn of events. He doesn’t even struggle as Kuzuryu strikes him once, twice more. 

“Fuyuhiko!” Pekoyama says sharply and Kuzuryu drops Nagito back onto the sand. Like trash. Tears well up in Nagito’s left eye, a physiological reaction. It will blacken, later. He wheezes to catch his breath from where Kuzuryu had knocked it out of him. 

“What in the _fuck,_ Peko!” Kuzuryu is screaming. “What in the fuck are you doing?” 

“Training,” Pekoyama says firmly. “Just training.” 

“Just training _my ass,_ this is where you’ve been going every night? I thought you was making friends-” 

“I am,” Pekoyama interrupts, but her gaze slides slightly left. Guilty. 

“You can’t do this, Peko! You can’t do this lone samurai bullshit anymore!” Kuzuryu looks on the brink of tears but he’s still shaking with rage. 

Nagito coughs involuntarily and Kuzuryu turns that murderous glare back to him. 

“Leave him alone,” Pekoyama commands. “It was my idea. I needed to train someone in case something happens-”

“ _Something_ almost happened, Peko! You coulda lost the baby!” 

“Baby?” Owari’s no-nonsense voice repeats. 

Familiar hands reach down, hooking under Nagito’s arms and pulling him up to his feet. 

The world swims a moment but then focuses sharply. Pekoyama and Kuzuryu, facing each other down by the waves, and the rest of the Despairs drawn by the noise, standing in a rough semicircle around them. 

“Y-you’re pregnant?” Tsumiki asks timidly. Then, more firmly. “Y-you should have been coming for check ups.”

Pekoyama has one hand over her midsection. Those little flinches. That dropped guard. 

The baby was _kicking._

“Komaeda,” Hinata’s voice is low. Maybe it’s a warning. 

Nagito’s knees give out but Hinata is still holding him upright so he breathes in deeply. It breaks midway - _he_ breaks midway. His breath comes out as a low, wild laugh that grows with his breathlessness, a wheezing, desperate, mad sort of sound. He tries to smother it with both his hands but Hinata still has him held upright, arms out, so there’s nothing to block the sound or his too-bright, bruising eyes. 

“Shit,” Soda curses under his breath. “Tsumiki-” 

“My kit,” she says suddenly, businesslike, and Imposter is there with it. She fills a long needle with some yellowish liquid from a small glass bottle and Hinata holds Nagito still, eyes hard and angry, as he takes the injection. The laugh trails off. Nagito breathes evenly again. Once, twice. 

Then, nothing. 

~~

It takes a little time before Nagito registers that he is conscious. Heavy blackout curtains have been drawn all around the bed so that when he blinks, the darkness does not change. There is something cool on his left eye and he is shirtless. Fingers trail through his long hair. 

“I’m sorry,” Nagito says quietly. The fingers pause a moment, then continue their soothing motion. 

“For what?” Hinata asks, equally quiet. He must be kneeling beside the bed, giving Nagito his space. Miserable. Disgusting. 

“For losing control. I should not have made such an unsightly spectacle.” Nagito’s voice is scratchy. The fingers in his hair tighten and for a moment he wonders if Hinata will yank him up by the hair, perhaps throw him against a wall. Repulsive. Regrettable. 

Instead, the curve of Hinata’s palm is against the nape of Nagito’s neck. He is guided up a little, and the lip of a bottle is against his mouth. Nagito drinks the cool water gratefully. Afterward Hinata lays him back down carefully. Nagito tenses. 

“Are you in pain?” Hinata asks solicitously. 

Nagito shakes his head, but that does feel rather unpleasant after all so he stops. “It’s fine,” he says. 

“It’s not.” Hinata’s voice rumbles with displeasure. Nagito tenses further. “What?” He asks. 

Nagito closes his eyes again. “I’m sorry,” he repeats. 

A pause. 

“Komaeda, do you think I’m angry with you?” 

“Aren’t you?” Nagito asks whimsically. “I made a fool out of myself.” 

“Not the first meltdown we’ve ever seen. And difficult circumstances and all that anyway- that’s not. Nobody cares about that. It’s the other thing.” 

“Yes.” Nagito tries to breathe steadily. “The other thing. That I almost did. I-” 

Hinata takes his hand. “You didn’t. Komaeda, I’m not angry with _you,_ I’m pissed at them. And you should be too.”

“Me?” Nagito asks, incredulous, but he does hold tight to Hinata’s hand. 

“Peko put herself in a dangerous situation without telling anyone. She hid her condition from you and the training from Kuzuryu. And he jumped to conclusions, blaming you and hitting you, he had no right-” Hinata’s voice rises a little and Nagito winces. 

“Sorry,” Hinata drops back into calmness, like a surface of a lake. Ripples, for anger underneath. “Point is, I’m not mad at you.” 

“Then why are you on the floor?” Nagito whispers. 

“You have a mild concussion. I didn’t want to jar you moving around on the bed. Do you want me up there anyway?” 

“I want you up here,” Nagito requests. Hinata shifts back. Clothing rustles. He slides into bed beside Nagito in his sleep pants. Nagito feels the press of a kiss against his shoulder as Hinata settles close around him. Nagito finds himself relaxing in increments, by degree. Steam from the kettle. A low long exhale. 

A tear works its way out of Nagito’s eye, slipping down his cheek onto the pillow. Then another. 

“Komaeda…”

“Good luck or bad luck? Good luck that I didn’t, or bad luck that I could have. It would have been… very bad luck, Hajime.” Nagito’s voice is low, barely a murmur. “What can be worse? What’s coming?” 

Another kiss. Fingertips brushing the tears away. “You’re trying to eat grass that isn’t there. Why don’t you give it a chance to grow?”

Nagito smiles. He catches Hinata’s hand near his face and pulls it to his mouth. He kisses the wrist. 

“He should not have hit me. She should not have hidden it. If something bad happened, it would have been me and my luck and that- that- that isn’t fair.” Nagito hiccups. 

“No,” Hinata says soothingly. “I know. It wasn’t fair. I- I know,” he finishes rather lamely. There had been a pause there, as if he wanted to say something else. Something he’s not allowed to say. 

And Nagito almost lets him. 

Almost. 

~~

In the morning, when Nagito wakes, his concussion has subsided. His pupils dilate properly. His left eye is bruising but it gives him a rather rakish look and isn’t painful to the touch. He opens the curtains and looks out over the ocean. 

There is a warship in the harbor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ~~Sparknotes~~
> 
>  **I am the Fates’ lieutenant; I act under orders** \- quote form Moby Dick, Ahab explaining that the meeting between himself and the white whale is destiny. Komaeda considers his luck to be both inevitable (fated) and his 'great white whale,' since he's always trying to find balance between good and bad luck and failing. 
> 
> **It matters not how strait the gate, how charged with punishments the scroll, I am the master of my fate, I am the captain of my soul** \- the quote that Soda is mangling, probably remembered from his time at Hope's Peak since it's from a famous poem "Invictus"  
> BY WILLIAM ERNEST HENLEY. Basically it means that Komaeda's actions should affect his luck in some way, he is an active participant with agency. It's Soda's attempt to play the literary game with the big boys. 
> 
> **Words, Words, Words** \- Hamlet, used when he's pretending to be crazy to dismiss Polonius. Komaeda uses them ironically to encourage Hinata to use his words and explain himself, even if it sounds crazy. 
> 
> **The doom lies in yourself, not in your name.** \- Tolkien quote, used to explain Gwindor's assistance in bringing justice to Turin. Komaeda is explaining that just being the leader with a dream doesn't mean that the enterprise will be doomed, it was their specific failings that led to disaster. Basically if Hinata fails it will be a specific bad thing he does and his own fault. A very Komaeda cheering-up lol.
> 
>  **Screw your courage to the sticking place.** \- Lady Macbeth to Macbeth, encouraging him to murder. In this case, Komaeda is encouraging Hinata to chase his dream and subtly hinting that he'll support Hinata however- including murder. 
> 
> **You wouldn't abandon ship in a storm just because you couldn't control the winds.** \- quote from Utopia, which is sort of what Hinata is trying to build. He is saying he will, in turn, support Komaeda through whatever his luck brings in the future. 
> 
> **You’re trying to eat grass that isn’t there. Why don’t you give it a chance to grow?** \- quote from Watership Down, where Fiver who can see the future is telling Hazel to worry less about the future lol. In the same way that Hinata is looking to the future for his goals for the island but is also telling Komaeda to not mind the ominous things lurking in the distance.


	5. Chapter 5

Nagito and Hinata are the last to the docks. The sun is just clearing the horizon, bright against the sand and sea and it looks like today is gonna be another perfect tropical day. Nagito falters at the thought, a memory, an overpowering sense of deja vu. 

It doesn’t matter. Hinata continues and so must he. His legs are longer anyway; by the time they pass their fellow Despairs, expressions grave, Nagito is only a single step behind. 

As of one mind, they have all come dressed in uniform; rows of white jackets, stiff buttoned shirts. Even Owari has slung her white cape across her shoulders, as modestly dressed as she’s ever been. Nagito takes in the two rows flanking either side of the dock with silent approval. He does not enjoy making eye contact with Kuzuryu or with Pekoyama, but his feelings are negligible at best, and at the moment wholly unnecessary. They are here, they are prepared. 

Hinata comes to a stop at the end of the dock and looks up at the warship, easily twice the size of the one they’d commandeered to come to Naegi’s aid. The gangplank lowers, as if on cue. It creaks down impressively, with force and clanging metal, but Hinata does not even blink, even as it lands less than a foot away from where he stands. 

Quiet footsteps approaching from the darkness of the ship. One person it sounds like, though a ship this size must have a few dozen to maintain it, perhaps more. Perhaps many, many more. 

“What a greeting. It’s truly an honor, Izuru Kamukura.” Haiji Towa smiles down at them, lavender eyes crinkling with warmth. Nagito can’t help but to stare in open astonishment. He can feel the moment solidify, click into place with the quiet clack of Haiji’s dress shoes against the metal hull. The sound, a knell, a knocking at hell-gate and Nagito’s luck as the key. 

Haiji comes to a stop before them, inclining his head slightly in a facsimile of deference. Then, almost as an afterthought, his eyes meet Nagito’s. 

“Ah,” Haiji says, fooling no one. “What a surprise. We meet again… Servant.” 

“Komaeda,” Hinata says without changing expression or looking away. “Can you vouch for this person?”

“I cannot,” Nagito answers immediately. 

Haiji laughs. “So cold, after all this time. Well, that’s to be expected. No, I’m not here to cause trouble. I’m quite willing to answer any questions or concerns you might have?” 

“Ask no questions, and you'll be told no lies,” Nagito murmurs, not quietly enough, apparently, as Haiji’s smile turns indulgent. 

“I have been bent and broken, but - I hope - into a better shape.” Haiji replies laconically. 

Movement in the darkness of the ship. Nagito tenses but all that appears are several adults from Towa City, dressed in serviceable factory clothing, carrying cardboard boxes of what appear to be supplies. 

“I’ve heard about your little island of second chances, and I’m here to offer my help.”

~~

Nagito stays as long as he must for propriety’s sake, but as soon as it seems natural, he picks up a box and falls into step with the others. He catches Sonia near the loading dock and drops all pretenses, pulling her close enough to whisper into her ear. His instructions are brief and clear; Sonia nods once and hands over her share, walking briskly away back toward the cabins. Nagito peeks over the two boxes in his arms as he steps down the ramp, and then one box is lifted away. 

“No need to worry,” Haiji says calmly, walking beside him quite naturally. “I’m uninterested in the children. In every possible way,” he adds at Nagito’s skeptical expression. “Tastes mature, you know.” 

Nagito frowns but does not reply. His eyes are drawn involuntarily to Haiji’s right arm. During the Towa riots, the monobear attack that had destroyed the Towa Group had crushed that arm, nerves damaged beyond all repair- so he’d thought. 

“It’s a little sci-fi for my tastes, but it does work,” Haiji explains, twisting his right arm a little so that Nagito can see the embedded circuits in the flesh. “Neuromuscular electrical stimulation on a cellular level. Nothing so technical as _yours,_ of course, but-” Haiji steps a little closer than strictly necessary. “We match,” he says lightly. Nagito suppresses a shiver of disgust as he lowers his box of supplies into the inventory Tsumiki and Pekoyama are running. 

“Komaeda,” Hinata says, He barely even raises his voice but Nagito turns in that direction instinctively, like a dog called to heel. “My office.” 

He must mean the security room. Nagito excuses himself and follows Hinata back toward the center island, refusing to give Haiji Towa the satisfaction of looking back even once. 

~~

“Of course I don’t want him on the island,” Hinata says wearily, sinking into a chair and rubbing his hands across his face. “He’s a creep, and he’s definitely up to something.” 

“You need to be careful,” Kirigiri warns from the monitor. Naegi, sitting at the desk beside her, has a serious sort of expression. Not terrifically hopeful, at the moment, Nagito notes cynically, reaching over to rub the back of Hinata’s neck absently with one hand. “We’ve had reports of several low tier unaffiliated Ultimates going missing over the past few weeks.”

“You can’t say for sure that there’s a connection,” Naegi argues in a way that’s clear this is a recurring discussion between them. 

“No, but all the disappearances have been from port-side cities in the general locale between Towa City and Jabberwock Island. And although we are on your side-” 

“Kirigiri!” Naegi protests. “We owe them!” 

Hinata shakes his head. “Listen to her, Naegi. The Future Foundation can’t afford a public showing of support for the Despairs. Not at this point, anyway.” 

“Fine. We’ll keep you appraised of any new developments, then, but…” Naegi bites his lower lip. It’s cute, in a hangdog sort of way. 

“If,” Nagito says calmly. “ _If_ there was a way for the Future Foundation and New Hope’s Peak to indirectly support us, can we count on you?” 

A small moment of surprise. “O-of course!” Naegi nearly bounds out of his seat. “What-” 

“Just a thought. We’ll be in touch. Take care, Naegi. Kiyoko.” 

Naegi’s expression melts from eager optimism to confusion and the barest touch of hurt. He turns a little in his seat to look at Kirigiri who waves goodbye at the vidscreen. 

“Kiyoko? Since when-” 

The feed cuts out. 

“You just have to make trouble, don’t you?” Hinata asks, but the barest twitch of a smile threatens to break out. 

“Not everyone can be as sensible as you and I, Hinata. Sometimes they need a li-t-tle push,” Nagito explains lightly. “And anyway, I don’t have any plans- yet. Maybe I won’t need them," he lies.

“You don’t believe that,” Hinata pushes himself to his feet. 

“Glass half full. Aren’t you always trying to get me to be more of an optimist? Now look, the Towas are back on their ship for the night. The perimeter fence will alert us if they try to cross before morning. Everyone will be waiting in the dining hall, so we’d better head that way. Do you have a plan for now?”

“As much as I can have, I suppose. It won’t turn out properly, too many variables.” Hinata sets the alerts on the control panel and leads the way back toward the main compound. 

“With all your talent? A sore disappointment.” Nagito clicks his tongue.

“It was certainly easier when I didn’t have to worry about collateral damage,” Hinata admits. Then he pauses, mid-step, as though something has just occurred to him. “You know that I won’t let him hurt you, right?” 

Nagito makes an agreeable sort of noise and then they are joining the others, so he is saved from having to respond to any more of Hinata’s silly romantic suppositions. 

~~

“Should the kids be here for this?” Soda asks uneasily, jerking a thumb over his shoulder at where Sonia sits with the four Warriors of Hope in the corner of the dining hall. 

“I don’t want them out of sight of at least one of us so long as the Towa are here,” Nagito says seriously. 

“Okay then,” Soda accepts easily. “Your show, your call.” He grins with his sharp teeth and there’s a moment of familiarity there, the kind of savage camaraderie across battlefields. 

It wasn’t all bad always, was it? After all, only a man who has felt ultimate despair is capable of feeling ultimate bliss. A familiar sort of tightness takes hold of Nagito briefly. He smothers a giggle behind his human hand. 

It’s gone, though, when Hinata motions for silence. 

“I wanna know why we’re even lettin’ that jackass step foot on the islands,” Kuzuryu demands. 

“Because we have to,” Hinata says firmly. “We’re trying to establish ourselves as a sovereign state with the premise of new beginnings. That can’t be selective, not this early on. We risk alienating the trust of those who are counting on the island to give them a second chance at life. Towa has done nothing more heinous than all of us did in the throes of Despair.” 

A disgruntled silence. Hinata continues. 

“It’s just been chance that no one up to this point has come to the island with bad intentions. We can’t even be sure that Towa’s intentions _are_ bad, except from our previous experiences. It’s not just the Future Foundation, but all the recovering governments and organizations are watching how we address these kinds of issues. We have to be extra careful, and we have to keep one step ahead. I need all of you to be on your best behavior until we can figure out their true intentions.” 

“So, what, you want us to just like, roll over and take it?” Owari asks bluntly. 

“No,” Hinata says. “Defend yourselves and each other. Pair up. Don’t go anywhere alone, _especially_ not with them. _Don’t go onto that ship._ If they try to strike a bargain or tell you a secret, find me immediately. We have done too much to get here to lose even one of you.” Hinata’s heavy gaze falls across Nagito like a brand. “It’s unacceptable.” 

Quiet, subdued assent ripples through the gathering. Even the kids seem more or less agreeable, the atmosphere too heavy for their usual antics. 

“Komaeda and I will revise duty stations accordingly. We will proceed with third island renovations, but we can slow the timeline until we are sure what Towa’s planning. I’ll have the new schedule by breakfast. For now, try to get some sleep. It’s going to be a trying day.” 

“Wait!” Koizumi straightens up. “Before you dismiss us, we need to talk about something else. Something that’s of vital concern to all of us on the island, and that might affect the future going forward.”

Eyes narrowing in concern, Hinata concedes the floor. Koizumi rises, hand clenched to her chest and mouth a thin, hard line. “We need to talk about Kuzuryu’s unacceptable behavior.” 

A hush falls over the group. 

Kuzuryu gets to his feet, face flushed. He’s glaring at the floor intently. “Yeah,” he says. Then he clears his throat and speaks again, more loudly. “Yeah! I fucked up, okay? I shouldn’t have done that.” 

“Damn right,” Saionji sniffs. “What are you, some kinda animal?” 

“No, I-” he lets out a little huff-noise of frustration, and then he’s looking at Nagito, for the first time since the confrontation on the beach. “I’m sorry,” Kuzuryu says clearly. “I gotta take responsibility. If you want to hit me-” 

Nagito shakes his head quickly. 

“N-no more more violence, please,” Tsumiki protests, squeaking a bit when Saionji gives her a nasty glare for her troubles. 

“Miss Piggy is right, though,” Saionji concedes. “The best you can do is be a fucking man about it.” 

“I will,” Kuzuryu says, bewildered. “Whatever I gotta do-” 

“You don’t have to do anything,” Nagito assures him. “The apology is more than enough.” 

“The apology is barely enough,” Hinata corrects quietly. 

“That apology isn’t nearly enough!” Koizumi objects, slamming her hand against the table. 

“That’s a bit much…” Soda says nervously. 

“No, I am in the perfect agreement,” Sonia says placidly. “In Novosalic, it would be a grave affront to the honor. It would require… much makango.” 

“The fuck is a makango?” Kuzuryu demands. 

“I still don’t know,” Hinata admits to Nagito alone, a touch chagrined. 

“And he’s gotta make up for hitting Nagito-chan too!” Mioda jumps in. “It was really rude!” 

“Oh yeah, that too.” Koizumi says, offhandedly. 

“Wait.” Hinata raises a hand, the other already going to his temple. “What are you talking about? I thought you were making him apologize for attacking Komaeda. Which he _absolutely should._ ”

“I did!” Kuzuryu cries, clearly at his limit. 

Nagito coughs politely behind his hand to hide an incredulous laugh. 

“Oh yeah, cuz he knocked up Pekoyammer without puttin’ a ring on it,” Owari says lazily, half-raising her shirt to scratch at her stomach. 

A beat. 

All eyes turn to Pekoyama who sits very still and very quiet. She looks straight up at the ceiling, not looking at anyone. 

“What? No, c’mon, that’s not- Peko wouldn’t-” Kuzuryu trails off. “Would you?” He asks, nearly a whisper. 

Pekoyama, still looking up, nods once. 

“No,” Kuzuryu says. Then, “Nooooooooo way!” He rushes from his seat over to where she sits and throws himself down on his knees. “Marry me. Make a dozen little Kuzuryus with me, baby. You’re my- you’re my whole world, you know that?” 

Pekoyama looks down with a smile. “Okay,” she says calmly. 

The room erupts into cheers. 

~~

Koizumi leads the other girls on Operation: Shotgun as they dub it. Saionji, familiar with formal fashions from her lifetime of performance, will work with Soda and the 3D cloth printer to create the wedding party’s attire. She looks positively feral at the thought of bossing him around for a week straight and Soda, in turn, looks mildly queasy. Koizumi will scout locations around the island for the venue and be in charge of photography day-of. Owari and Hanamura will work on catering, Sonia will facilitate behind the scene, Tsumiki will be in charge of flower arrangements and decoration, Mioda will be in charge of music and Kotoko will be flower girl.

“Who will perform the sacred rite?” Tanaka asks, concerned. 

“Hinata, of course,” Koizumi adds breezily. 

“I was gonna ask him to be best man,” Kuzuryu gripes. 

“No friggin’ way. He’s the captain of the ship or whatever, so he has to do it.” Owari grunts. 

“I-I’m not sure that applies on an island…” Tsumiki says hesitantly. 

“As our elected leader, I’m sure only Hinata has the official designation to marry citizens of the island,” Nagito adds, enjoying the annoyed look Hinata throws him after. 

“I’m not an _elected_ anything-”

“Democracy!” Nidai shouts. “Raise your hand if you vote Hinata as leader supreme!” 

“That sounds seriously sketch…” Hinata mutters. Nagito smiles cheerfully and raises his hand. They all do. 

“That’s settled, then!” Nidai throws back his head and laughs for sheer joy. 

“Ah ah, we must settle on the best man and maiden of honor,” Sonia reminds them, tut-tutting. 

“Ah, whatever. Soda, I guess.” Kuzuryu shrugs, pointing almost at random. Only his reddening ears betray his embarrassment. 

“Yessss!” Soda pumps a fist in victory. 

“Pekoyama?” All the female eyes turn her way and Nagito has the slight impression of a wolfpack, about to descend on a wounded deer. Pekoyama places a hand on her stomach with a small, absent smile. 

“Later,” she murmurs, and the meeting breaks up. 

~~

Hinata and Nagito walk back to the cabins slowly. It’s a nice enough night, but the dark blot of the ship in the harbor makes it impossible to ignore. 

“What are you going to do?” Nagito asks. 

“Prepare for the worst, hope for the best. I don’t know Towa as well as you did. Any insight?”

Nagito shakes his head, fingers locking with Hinata’s as they walk. “The Haiji Towa I knew was a coward first and foremost. He only made moves when he was sure of a win. At the time, his ‘win’ was revenge against the kids and Monaca. He never got it, though, so his goals may have changed.” 

“But?” Hinata presses gently. 

“But people like Towa don’t really change. Only their targets do. I can’t imagine that his goals can be selfless.” 

“Few people are,” Hinata allows. 

“You are.” Nagito smiles at him. Hinata stops and looks at Nagito softly, pushing a little lock of hair back from the taller man’s face. 

“I’m really not,” Hinata says. “I’ll leave you here.” 

“Not coming in?” Nagito teases. 

“You’ve got company, it seems.” Hinata turns away with a wave. 

Outside of Nagito’s door, Pekoyama waits. 

They look at each other for a long moment. 

“Would you like to come in?” Nagito offers, bemused. She shakes her head. One hand stays curled around her middle. “I suppose it’s safe to say that our lessons are at an end. I apologize for not being more skilled, but… I did warn you.” He tries to keep his tone light. 

“You were an excellent pupil,” Pekoyama says. “I am only sorry that I was not a better instructor.” 

“What do you want?” Nagito asks plainly. 

“To talk,” Pekoyama says simply. “I want to talk with you.” 

“So talk.” Nagito sits on the steps up to his cabin, turning a little sideways to face her. 

“I’m a selfish person, Komaeda. I know my failings and I know that what I do isn’t for other people, it’s for myself. I protect Fuyuhiko because I can’t bear for him to be hurt. I’m having this child to make sure he can’t ever look away from me. To build back up his clan, he can never leave me. We’re linked forever now.” She smiles, a little crooked thing that is gone in an instant. 

“I taught you because I wanted to teach you. I wanted someone else to protect the island and Fuyuhiko while I couldn’t fight, but it was more than that. I wanted to make my mark. You have been different, lately, in little ways. Better ways. I wanted to be part of that too.” She trails off. 

“Kuzuryu said he thought you were making friends.” 

“That is what I told him. That I was meeting a friend.” Pekoyama agrees. 

“Did you mean that?” Nagito asks. 

“Surprisingly, yes.” Pekoyama huffs her strange little laugh again. “I did think of us as friends. I did think of training as something fun that friends do together. I’m unused to having friends. I... suppose that was selfish as well.” 

“No,” Nagito disagrees. “I thought so too. Otherwise I wouldn’t have been so hurt and so angry after.” 

“I’m sorry,” Pekoyama says simply. 

“I know. As they say, friendship is constant in all things, save in the office and affairs of love.” Nagito sighs. “Are we friends?” He asks wistfully after a moment. “Is that a thing we can do?” 

“I’d like to try.” Pekoyama says carefully. “You are probably the closest person to me here, aside from Fuyuhiko. And even then, there are things I think you might understand that I could not bring myself to tell him. I have a lot to make up for.” 

“All are punish’d, Pekoyama.” Nagito says lightly. 

“I won’t be Pekoyama for much longer,” she corrects. 

“Peko, then.” Nagito notices that she tenses suddenly. “Baby kicking?” 

“Like a rabbit.” She hesitates, then steps forward. She settles onto the step beside him. “Do you want to feel?” 

Wordlessly, Nagito lets her guide his human hand over her belly. A slight rippling movement underneath follows. It is splendid and slightly disturbing, a weak little creature in a cage of flesh. He loves it, and he loves her. 

“Let’s be friends. You want to run – I’ll run with you.” Nagito says impulsively. 

“I don’t want you to run,” Peko says calmly. “I want you to be my man of honor.” 

“Then we’ll do that,” Nagito agrees. 

One week until the end of the world. 

Well. He’ll do his best.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ~~  
> Reference Guide:
> 
>  **Here’s a knocking indeed! If a man were porter of hell-gate, he should have old turning the key** \- a reference from Macbeth, when the drunk porter goes to open the gate to let Macduff adn Lennox in where they discover that Duncan has been murdered. Basically opening the island to Towa's approach is, in Nagito's opinion, letting in the devil. 
> 
> **Ask no questions, and you'll be told no lies/I have been bent and broken, but - I hope - into a better shape** \- both are quotes from Great Expectations. Komaeda tries using their 'code' to warn Hinata about trusting Towa, but he is educated enough to be able to answer with his own quote claiming that he has learned from his past mistakes and is now a better person. Towa is letting Hinata and Komaeda know that they're not the only clever people in the room anymore. 
> 
> **Only a man who has felt ultimate despair is capable of feeling ultimate bliss** \- quote from Count of Monte Cristo, which is a work focused on revenge. Komaeda suspects that Towa's motivation is rooted in some kind of revenge plot and the pressure is threatening to throw him back into his madness/despair cycle, though when Hinata takes control he is able to shake it off. This is an indication that Komaeda is not handling his upcoming luck turn as well as he appears. 
> 
> **Friendship is constant in all things save in the office and affairs of love** \- quote from Much Ado About Nothing where friendships are tried by romantic complications. Komaeda is basically forgiving Pekoyama for her deception since it was done to protect Kuzusyu rather than deliberately to hurt Komaeda and their friendship. 
> 
> **All are punish'd** \- famous line from the end of Romeo and Juliet when the Prince announces that everyone has suffered because of the tragedy. Komaeda is empathizing with Pekoyama since she also suffered from the reveal since her closest friend and her lover were both upset with her. 
> 
> **You want to run – I’ll run with you.** \- Watership Down quote which Pekoyama misunderstands as literal running. In this case, the rabbit language uses running to symbolize life- to die is to 'stop running.' So he is really telling her, if you want to live, I will help you to live. It's a much greater sacrifice than offering to die for someone in Komaeda's opinion.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Long chapter, lotsa references after the jump

_Manic_ is the best description for the islands over the next few days. The Despairs latch onto their latest project with zeal that borders on madness. 

“I said Alençon lace, you dithering dickmaggot!” Saionji screams, hurling 40 yards of frothing white cloth at Soda’s head. “This is _chantilly!_ For fuck’s sake!” 

Soda, hands flailing midair, seems to be suffocating under the fabric. 

Nagito and Peko watch dispassionately one table over from the fabric samples where they’ve set up a practice banquet set up, replete with a glass vase of artificial flowers and white sand dollars. Hanamura shakes his head in disgust as he sets down the first set of miniature cake plates in front of them. 

“Our first selection: berry bagatelle with Kirsch cherry liqueur moistened sponge cake, filled with fresh mix berry compote and light Bavarian Cream.”

“Nice acidity,” Nagito says appreciatively. 

“The sweetness isn’t overpowering,” Peko agrees. 

“Sorry we’re late,” Kuzuryu and Hinata join them at the table. On the way, Hinata carelessly fishes Soda out of the lace death trap by the back of his collar, giving him a little shake and dragging him to the table. 

“My hero,” Soda gasps, eyes shining up at Hinata. 

“You should have just made the right lace in the first place.” Hinata deposits him on an empty chair before sliding into the seat next to Nagito. “Pay attention, unless you _like_ getting smacked around.” 

“Not by Saionji,” Soda admits ruefully. 

“Long morning?” Peko asks solicitously, sliding a cake sample to Kuzuryu. 

“You can say that again. Productivity on the docks has gone to shit. That Towa bastard is bad for morale, he’s creepin’ out the crews.” Kuzuryu takes a nibble of the pink cake, his face melting and cheeks going pink with pleasure. “Hey, this is pretty damn good.” 

Each of them marks on their cards a rating 1-10. Hanamura waves a hand and Nagisa takes the cake plates away to the kitchen where Jataro and Masaru are busy on dish duty in exchange for the leftover cake samples. Kotoko is off trailing Koizumi, a little wedding-planner in training. 

“Next we have a million dollah mousse cake with dark chocolate cake layered with coffee swiss buttercream and espresso-soaked sponge, all topped with creamy hazelnut chocolate mousse.” 

“Ah man, this _bangs._ ” Soda practically moans. 

“Peko don’t love coffee though,” Kuzuryu notes. 

“This is still delicious,” Peko says. “It’s not overpowering.” 

“Chocolate and hazelnut are heavy flavors, though.” Hinata points out. “And there will be a lot of other food and drink beforehand.” 

They mark their scorecards and the plates change once again. 

Hanamura waggles an eyebrow. “Next is our _passionate_ tropical fruit selection passion fruit mousse between layers of Italian sponge cake moistened with coconut syrup.”

“Isn’t the _passion_ what got you two hitched in the first place?” Soda asks around a mouthful of delicate sugared pineapple decoration. Kuzuryu kicks him. “Ow!”

“This would match the theme,” Peko notes. “Koizumi and Tsumiki called it… what was that again, Komaeda?”

“Shipwreck mod, tropical aesthete.” Nagito parrots back. 

“The fuck is that?” Kuzuryu frowns. He has frosting on his upper lip and Peko is staring at him in a way that only they would recognize as adoring. 

“A pretentious way of saying that we live on an island, so it’ll be on the beach.” Hinata explains dryly. “But this is your wedding, so feel free to tell them off if they’re too much.” 

Peko blinks. “I don’t mind,” she says. “Or, rather, it’s too much trouble and they’re having fun.” 

“I’ll tell them to fuck off for you, then.” Hinata offers, brows scrunching in annoyance. “We have too much unrest on the island for them to lose themselves on trivialities.” 

“Unquiet meals make ill digestions,” Nagito says sweetly. Hinata softens and sighs. 

“Right. Sorry. Thanks, Hanamura. That was really good. I think we’re ready for the next one.”

As Hanamura and Nagisa clear the way for the next sample, Soda shakes his head. “Man I ain’t ever gonna get over how easy you make that look, Komaeda.” 

“It is remarkable, your influence.” Peko says mildly. 

“I’m right here,” Hinata sulks. 

“Classic red velvet with a buttermilk base, cream cheese filling and white cocoa buttercream roses,” Hanamura announces. 

“Aw, you gettin’ embarrassed?” Kuzuryu teases Hinata. 

“Must be the power of love,” Soda grins. 

Nagito practically jumps to his feet. 

“Komaeda?” Hinata is all concern. Nagito can’t quite look at him. 

“Restroom,” Nagito manages, with an insincere smile. He steps away from the gathering and turns down the hall, just out of sight. 

Dangerously domestic. A happy wedding. A bright future. 

He shouldn’t _be_ here. 

Nagito ducks down a moment, hands on his thighs, and just breathes. 

When he’s calm again, he goes back inside. 

He makes it through two more cakes, though he doesn’t finish his portions. He’s resistant to sweet things on his best days, and his best days are long past. Peko chooses the first cake, the least sweet option, and that’s a lucky break, that the bride mirrors his preferences. 

Kuzuryu walks Peko back to the cabins for a midday lie in and Hinata excuses himself to the kitchen with Hanamura and the kids. Soda trundles unhappily back to his workshop for a second run at the lace pattern. For a moment it’s just Nagito in the dining hall, staring down at his unfinished cake, feeling stifled and on edge.

Then the door from the hall creaks open and someone enters. 

“You’re not supposed to be in here,” Nagito says sharply. 

“I had a question about the proposed power grid for the fourth island,” Haiji says with an injured air. “There are several points of weakness my engineers have spotted and I wanted clearance before making any changes. Planning a party?” 

Nagito stays seated, saying nothing as Haiji approaches his table. He glances over the various cake remnants, gaze pausing briefly on the pile of lace and the ribbon samples scattered on the other table. 

“Not just any party,” Haiji amends. “A wedding. Shall I guess who?” 

“If it pleases the king.” Nagito says dryly. 

Haiji laughs. “You’re very clever. I hadn’t remembered that. Hinata must be very fond of you.” Haiji is standing just behind him now. Nagito looks out over the table, to the window beyond. 

“Cake tasting is always the best part of weddings.” Haiji sighs. “Are they very fond of sweet things, Pekoyama and Kuzuryu?” Nagito tries to hide his flinch. “You’d be surprised at the kind of information that’s common knowledge, on a little island. Operation Shotgun!” Haiji shakes his head, amused. “I only asked because it’s customary, isn’t it, to send a wedding present?” 

“What do you want?” Nagito asks. “Why did you come here?” 

Haiji reaches down, over Nagito’s shoulder. They don’t touch, but it’s close enough that Nagito can feel Haiji’s body heat. Overwarm, like a sweaty blanket in need of a wash. 

“For a taste.” Haiji scoops up a single buttercream rosette from Nagito’s plate and brings it up to his mouth, licking it clean. He keeps his eyes fixed on Nagito’s face. 

“Towa.” Hinata’s voice rings out in the space with authority. Haiji steps back, hands raised. “I have asked you to not intrude on the main island.” 

“Forgive me,” Haiji says smoothly. “I only meant to consult with you on professional matters. It didn’t occur to me that the hall would be off-limits.”

“We consider this to be an extension of our private quarters. Please return to the fourth island and I will meet you shortly.”

Haiji tilts his head deferentially and goes. 

“That’s the second time,” Hinata mutters angrily. He gives the offending cake plate a push so it clatters away. “Why is he being so _weird_ with you?” 

“I don’t know,” Nagito confesses. “It seems bizarre for anyone to pay me this much attention. Present company included.” Hinata gives him a dirty look for that and Nagito smiles faintly. 

“It’s possible that it’s a deliberate tactic meant to redirect our suspicions. It is also possible that you directly factor in to whatever he’s planning. Either way, I don’t want you going anywhere alone for the foreseeable future.” 

“You’re the one who left me,” Nagito points out, bemused. Hinata drops something in front of him on the table, in the newly cleared space. Saltine crackers, to counteract all the sugar from the cake. 

Nagito feels suddenly, shockingly, like he might cry. 

~~

In lieu of a bachelor party, the men go fishing. They drop anchor at an angle that allows Hinata to monitor the Followers on the third island and keep an eye on where Towa’s warship has taken residence on the fourth island jetty. Tanaka even manages to find a couple of dolphins from somewhere to entertain the kids.

Peko and the others visit the ruins of the drugstore, digging around to find skincare and make up supplies that survived the Disaster. Nagito tags along placidly. 

“Ooh, another amazing find!” Koizumi crows. 

Mioda whoops. “This lipstick shade is _perf_ Peko-Peko, like rockstar _meow!_ ” 

Peko glances at where Nagito sits beside her with thinly veiled amusement. “How fortunate.” 

Nagito inclines his head in a mock-stately manner. “Here, sweet lady, at your service.” 

Peko’s expression sobers once the girls fall back on the miscellaneous bins lining the back room walls, leaving them more or less out of earshot. “Word is that the Towa group is making preparations to leave. Perhaps as early as Sunday.” 

Nagito raises an eyebrow. “The day after the wedding.” 

Peko half-shrugs.

Nagito sighs. “Your intel is very good. They did not give Hinata a specific length of time for the visit, and Hinata did not give them a deadline to leave by- though I think it’s hardly a secret that he wants them gone.” 

“It’s no secret why. He guards you like a dragon.” Peko’s expression is wry. 

“I’m sure you can relate.” They exchange a knowing look. 

“Fuyuhiko has always been overzealous. It’s unexpected to see Hinata in such a way. He’s always seemed removed from passionate feelings aside from you.”

“And what have I to give back, whose worth may counterpoise this rich and precious gift?” Nagito asks no one in particular. 

“You have charm of your own,” Peko says coolly. 

“Haiji Towa isn’t after my dubious charms,” Nagito smiles blandly. 

“Do you know what he wants?” Peko asks. 

Nagito hums in response. It seems the safest answer. 

“Oh. Em. Gee. _Nagito-chan._ ” Mioda pops into view, wielding a tiny black stubby pencil like a drumstick. “Guyliner!” 

And then they are too busy for more talk. 

~~

They stay too busy for more than the day to day right up until the day of the wedding. There’s an all-call security meeting the night before the meeting that excludes Mitarai reasons of personal comfort and all the female Despairs for what Nagito privately feels are sexist ones, but he remains dutifully silent at Hinata’s side.

“Owari will do as you say,” Hinata tells Nidai, “and I want the two of you to watch the children. I trust that you together are a strong enough team to overcome nearly any physical danger.” 

“Ous!” Nidai roars appreciatively. 

“Soda, status update on Operation Atlantis?” Hinata motions. 

“The underwater tunnels are only like 48% complete? But we did what you asked and moved the first couple islands to the top of the list in case we gotta evacuate or somethin’ so they’re pretty much solid.” 

“Pretty much?” Nagito asks innocently. 

Soda shoots him an annoyed look. “Like good enough to keep ya dry, jerkass. Needs shorin’ up though, the walls ain’t finished so they’re kinda thin. A big enough storm would knock that shit out in no time.” 

Hinata nods sharply. “Are there any other concerns going forward?” 

“Is it imperative that Mitarai refrain from attending the wedding?” Imposter asks, mouth dipping unhappily to one side. 

Hinata raises an eyebrow. “It’s his request.” 

“We don’t always know what’s best for ourselves,” Imposter argues. “I believe he can be persuaded, and it would be good for him to bond with the others.” 

“It _is_ also a strategic advantage to have at least one of us away from the venue,” Nagito points out, which earns him a dirty look from more than one person. 

“Komaeda is correct,” Hinata says. Imposter begins to protest but Hinata holds up a finger to stall him. “You are also correct. Perhaps it is better to face whatever comes together, for good or ill.” 

“Optimistically foolish,” Nagito frowns. 

“Our doubts are traitors,” Hinata murmurs and Nagito snorts, but looks away with grudging acceptance. “If you and Tsumiki manage to convince Mitarai of his own volition, I have no objection.” He hesitates. “How is Peko holding up?” 

Kuzuryu snorts. “You know as much as I do, Peko don’t tell me shit. Not when it’s about her, anyway. Tsumiki says it’s alright.” 

“Yes,” Tanaka rumbles. “The ultimate achievement, to create an immortal line carrying into the darkness of eternity.” 

“I always wanted a big family,” Kuzuryu admits, blushing. 

“Lots of little Kuzuryus, Hinata. Think of that, and tremble.” Nagito nudges Hinata who smothers a laugh into his shoulder. 

“Meeting adjourned,” he snickers. 

~~

The morning of the wedding dawns with clear skies and a perfect balmy 71 degrees. There is, in the beginning, a great deal of noise and fuss that he and Hinata escape because of their duties supervising on the third island. They give the Followers a half day and a keg of experimental cider Hanamura had deemed too daggone common for the celebration and head back mid-afternoon. 

Nagito dresses in his dark grey suit with the lilac dress shirt Saionji had shoved into his solar plexus at the rehearsal dinner, ties his hair back with a lavender ribbon, and patiently allows Mioda to give him perfect winged eyeliner. She runs off to tackle Soda and Hinata, so Nagito makes the slow journey over to the venue alone. It’s the time when afternoon plays with dusk, and cool, so he enjoys the momentary silence in an otherwise overwhelming day. He is walking over to the beach house turned dressing room to meet Peko and the other girls when he sees the figure standing, waiting outside directly in his path 

Haiji’s suit is black on black on black, but in the center his tie pin is dark silver with an ostentatious lilac diamond center. 

It’s a deliberate sign. 

“I’m afraid this event is invite only,” Nagito says pleasantly. He keeps his gaze steady, noting, without changing focus, that the beach house door behind seems undisturbed. Through the open window, he can hear the faint feminine murmurs of the wedding party, undisturbed. 

“With the Ultimates, what isn’t?” Haiji asks, offhanded. “I’m not here for _them._ ”

“Are you going to tell me what you are here for, then?” Nagito asks, tired. 

Haiji winks. “No need for all that, now is there? Not with us.” 

“I have somewhere to be,” Nagito says, eyes straying despite himself. 

“Don’t we all? Have a wonderful time, Komaeda. You deserve it.” Haiji waves with his enhanced hand. “I just wanted to pay my respects. You will pass them along?” 

“You won’t try to give them yourself?” Nagito clarifies. 

“Invite only, so you say.” Haiji shrugs. “And the ship will be leaving early tomorrow.” Nagito’s eyebrow raises despite himself. “I can see you don’t believe me. I suppose a few supplies and some goodwill gestures aren’t worth much, in the long run. Haven’t I been an _ideal_ guest? Though I am sorry you don’t seem interested in a more… long term… collaboration. I am content with what I can have.” 

“Which is?” Nagito asks pleasantly. “I fail to see your gain in all of this. Haven’t you always been business minded?” 

“Mankind was my business,” Haiji says lightly. Nagito’s smile goes a touch sardonic. “Networking, of course. Having resources and mobility while being considered a neutral party between the Future Foundation and the Remnants of Despair puts us in a very unique position. Many of these burgeoning wrecks of civilization would do nearly anything for that kind of stability. They’ll pay through the nose for it.” 

“You’re establishing some kind of… Neo-Dutch East India Company? Nagito asks warily. “And you don’t want anything except to make professional connections here.” 

“I won’t say that’s all I _want._ ” Haiji laughs softly. “But I’ll settle for a handshake till then.” 

A beat. 

Laughter from the open window. 

Hinata and the others are due any moment. That will needlessly complicate things. This is not Nagito’s day, and this inconvenient bit of past will not spoil this last bit of luck-spell. Nagito knows that instinctively. 

Time and the hour run through the roughest day. Tomorrow is a problem for tomorrow’s Nagito, poor bastard. Come what may.

Nagito holds out his hand- the metal one. Haiji clasps it, giving a handshake that is too tight, and Haiji’s index finger extends over Nagito’s pulse point in a way that makes him fight to keep an even expression. Off-putting manipulation, even now at goodbye. 

“Do let me know if you change your mind,” Haiji says pleasantly. “We’ll sail at ten.” 

“Have a safe trip,” Nagito answers. 

~~

Peko is beautiful, her hair braided up in a way that is intricate but still soft, wound round and gentle like a crown. A tiny tiara sparkles atop, draped with a gauze white veil. Sonia’s, of course. Something borrowed. There’s blue wildflowers gathered in her bouquet, picked from the highest reaches monkey-like by Owari pre-dawn. She tucks one into Nagito’s pocket.

“Nervous?” He asks gently. She shakes her head. She’s very slender in the waist but the skirts flare out expertly in lavender and white to conceal the swell of her belly, the (correct) french lace pattern overlaid on top in what is shockingly (or not so shockingly) the crest of a dragon. Kuzuryu’s clan crest, in yards of frothy new lace. 

“Something old?” Nagito prompts. She raises her bouquet again and Nagito can see the ribbons tied around the base in a pretty bow. 

“My old hair ribbons,” she explains. 

The other girls, dressed in their usual styles but all in shades of lavender and grey, filter out onto the beach, careful to shut the door behind themselves lest they spoil the surprise. 

Peko closes her eyes and takes a deep breath. She reaches out with her free hand blindly and Nagito steps into place, letting her arm find his. 

The music begins, a rock-band ballad version of the wedding march. The doors open. 

They go. 

~~

“You’re quiet,” Hinata says, handing Nagito a glass of champagne. “And docile.”

“There is flattery in friendship,” Nagito comments, taking a sip. It had a nice bite to it. 

“And you are beautiful. Those colors suit you.” Nagito nearly breaks his glass. “Flattery,” Hinata echoes needlessly, smiling at his own glass in an insufferably self-indulgent manner. 

Nagito begins to say something cutting and clever but stops midway. Instead, he sips at his glass again, thoughtful. “So that’s what it’s like.” 

“Turnabout is fair play. If I am brooding down a rabbit hole, you are there to ferret me out. I shall do the same for you.” Hinata says, amused. “What are you looking at?” 

It’s getting dark and the party is winding down. Kuzuryu and Peko sway slowly on the dance floor while Koizumi and Tsumiki start a half-hearted clean up effort. Owari naps under the cake table, Masaru half in her lap. Sonia and Tanaka walk along the shoreline in the distance hand in hand- something sweet and sad and insufferable about them since Sonia caught the bouquet. Imposter and Mioda walk Mitarai back to his lair in an Electric Avenue store front on the third island. It has been a perfect day. 

The sun sets, across the water. Blue and purple. Black and red. 

“What are you thinking?” Hinata asks gently. He’s finished his glass. Nagito must have been looking a long time. 

“The field, it’s covered with blood.” Nagito murmurs. He finishes off his glass in one long bitter drink. He isn’t used to the alcohol, so he already feels a bit unsteady from his glass before. 

“Komaeda…” 

“I have thought about all of the terrible things I have done or made happen or allowed to happen, in one way or another, and I have realized that without them- without every single one of them, I would never have been here and you would never have cared for me. I feel as though I paid the price for this- for this and for you, since the day I was born, or at least since my luck murdered my parents in exchange for my life on that plane. I love you so much. I’d do anything for you. But this isn’t a price you pay once- it’s installments and they come with interest. And the balance is all due, Hajime.” 

“What can I do?” Hinata asks, voice low but full of want. “I’ll… you have to know I’ll do _anything._ ” 

Nagito puts his glass on a table and Hinata hastily follows suit. 

“Take me to bed,” Nagito requests. 

~~

The moment that Hinata closes the door, Nagito pushes him against it. He pulls Hinata down into the kiss by his tie with his prosthetic, so hard the soft material begins to rip, so hard that Hinata will bruise, maybe. 

Hinata just leans down into the kiss, no less intense but gentling, meeting Nagito’s desperate teeth and tongue with his soft and certain mouth. He unbuttons Nagito’s shirt with one hand and his belt with the other with a show of ambidexterity that is as improbable as it is objectively devastating. Nagito, for his part, simply claws at Hinata’s dress shirt ineffectually with his human hand until Hinata gets around to stripping himself as well. Nagito, useless, steps back a little to watch his progress. 

He’s always liked to look at Hinata, in any way that he could see him, but like this- all hard muscle and soft eyes. This is the best way. He would claw Hinata’s eyes out of his head before Nagito let him look that way at anyone else again. 

Hinata isn’t even touching him yet but it doesn’t matter. Nagito’s so strung out that even Hinata’s breathing from across the room leaves him oversensitive and shivering. 

He wants to die, just like this. 

“Tell me what you want,” Hinata almost begs. And if Nagito was just a little smarter- a little sharper, a little bit better about not being selfish, he would have figured it out right then and there. 

But Nagito is a fool, against reason, against promise, against peace, against hope, against happiness, against all encouragement that could be.

“Tell me,” Nagito whispers. 

“I love you,” Hinata tells him. And then “I love you,” with his mouth, his hands, his eyes, his body, pressed against and inside and around Nagito, until he’s as wire thin and worn ragged in body as he is in spirit. He takes and he takes. Hours into the night, Hinata traces the shape of Nagito’s pale body, kisses down his abs, drives him mad with saying it in every way that Nagito can understand and a few, he knows, he might never. 

It’s the best last night of his life. 

Nothing can be better.

How cruel then for Hinata to press one final sweaty kiss to his temple, to pull Nagito close against his chest and murmur a final word of love before falling asleep. 

It’s a marvelous time for Nagito to stop breathing. To slip out of Hajime’s grasp and find something sharp or bitter. This is his moment to be selfless. 

Nagito has never been selfless, so, of course, he lives. 

They sleep. 

~~

The siren sounds on the way to meet the others for breakfast. 

Hinata thumbs open the security protocol on his portable. “Breaches in the perimeter fencing, fuck. Towa bastard.” He shakes his head. “Alright, I had thought this a potential outcome.”

“What time is it?” Nagito asks sharply. 

“Eight thirty seven,” Hinata answers. “Damn, the all call isn’t working. There’s an override in the security center, so we’ll head that way first.” And even though he’s rumpled, sleep worn and fucked out with marks on his neck, he’s still so distressingly competent that Nagito’s heart skips a beat. 

It’s a smart move, giving them a central look at all the cameras and assessing the damage. Nagito follows Hinata who moves purposefully to command, keying in his entry code and motioning for Nagito to go first. 

The cameras are a wreck. Nearly all of the cameras are down, and the ones that are still transmitting mostly show smoke, debris, and general chaos. 

Hinata folds himself into the chair, working quickly to get the cameras back online. 

“Code?” Nagito asks at the emergency override. 

“248, meet at the main dock,” Hinata orders. A few more of the cameras come back online under his nimble typing. “There’s a spare security baton in the left annex.” 

Nagito sends the code for the rendezvous point, then quickly ducks into the left annex. There’s three boxes so it takes him a moment to tear through all three before he realizes Hinata must have been mistaken. There’s no weaponry here, just extra emergency rations. 

Except Hinata is never wrong. Not about things like this. 

Nagito sprints back to the main console in time to see the steel bars crash down, locking him in, Hinata on the other side. 

There’s muffled screaming, coming in through the speakers, perhaps, or through his own head. 

There are many things that Nagito could say now. _What is this_ or _Why_ or _Please Hajime, I love you, don’t-_

But all of these responses are very boring. 

“My Chief Rabbit has told me to stay and defend this run, and until he says otherwise, I shall.” Nagito’s voice trembles. 

And Hinata smiles, full of relief and amused affection and love, _damn him,_ and he goes. 

~~

Nagito watches the progress of the next 24 hours from his prison until the automatic timing runs out on the trigger and the bars retract. He’s sure that Hinata meant restoring the coverage to be a kindness, but it is a kind of torture on its own, knowing what is and what could be. 

True to his word, Haiji Towa’s warship sails away from the islands at ten o’clock sharp. 

With it, he takes Peko Kuzuryu and Hajime Hinata. 

What terrible, terrible luck.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ~ Reference Notes ~
> 
>  **Unquiet meals make ill digestions** \- Shakespeare quote that means arguing or having unpleasant events during dinner can spoil the whole interaction, just like poor discussions can lead to fractured friendships over time. Komaeda uses it to get Hinata to stop complaining about wedding duty and just eat the damn cake. 
> 
> **If it pleases the king** \- In this case, a biblical reference to Esther, though any literary address is a fine comparison. Although Haiji Towa is not the leader here, he is a guest and so must be treated more carefully than a Despair or Follower, which is what Nagito is noting. He must humor Haiji to keep things diplomatic. 
> 
> **Here, sweet lord, at your service** \- Horatio to Hamlet. Since Horatio is a loyal eager servant and friend, Nagito phrases his support this way since he's deliberately chosen to give Peko good make up finds with his luck instead of going with the guys and getting them a good haul fishing. 
> 
> **Guards you like a dragon** \- Not necessarily literary, but the Ryu in Kuzuryu means dragon, so Peko is making a pun because Hinata is being as overprotective of Komaeda as Kuzuryu is of her. 
> 
> **And what have I to give you back, whose worth/May counterpoise this rich and precious gift** \- this is a quote from Claudio in Much Ado About Nothing that sounds like a compliment but it's what he says right before calling the girl (the 'gift' and his bride to be) a cheating slut in front of like the whole town and basically ruining her life. Nagito uses it to self-deprecate since he feels Hinata is not getting much out of being with him and that Hinata's life will soon be ruined through association. Man, fuck Claudio. 
> 
> **Our doubts are traitors and make us lose the good we oft might win by fearing to attempt.** \- Shakespeare quote Hinata uses to say that the good of Mitarai's attendance outweighs the potential difficulties that will arise if something happens and eveyone is at the wedding. 
> 
> **Lots of little Bigwigs, Hazel! Think of that, and tremble!** \- Watership Down quote, changed to fit. Meant to be a friendly jibe about being outnumbered by an overbearing type. 
> 
> **Mankind was my business. The common welfare was my business; charity, mercy, forbearance, and benevolence, were all my business.  
> **  
>  \- quote from A Christmas Carol by Dickens, where Marley is explaining to Scrooge that he was a successful businessman in life but he should have taken care to make his priority the betterment of mankind. This lets us know that Haiji thinks that whatever he is doing is for 'the greater good' but will also make him wealthy and successful. 
> 
> **Time and the hour run through the roughest day/Come what may** \- Macbeth says this right after the witches first give him the prophecy of becoming King and he considers murder. It's a foreshadowing that the next day is going to get really messy, according to Nagito's gut feeling. Like Macbeth, it is both his own fault and also somewhat destined. 
> 
> **There is flattery in friendship/ turnabout is fair play** \- Shakespeare quote that says basically people who are friends speak well of and to each other even when not justified. Hinata turns this around by leaning into the compliments which annoys and flusters Nagito. That was the real objective all along, since he's in A MOOD. 
> 
> **The field it’s covered with blood** \- Watership Down quote, Fiver has the first vision of danger which everyone but Hazel ignores. Hinata doesn't ignore him, but he is unable to understand the warning and so reacts differently than Nagito wishes. 
> 
> **I loved her against reason, against promise, against peace, against hope, against happiness, against all discouragement that could be** \- Komaeda uses a version of this quote from Great Expectations to explore the depth of his feelings for Hinata and also his own self loathing. His love makes him foolish, basically. 
> 
> **My Chief Rabbit has told me to stay and defend this run, and until he says otherwise, I shall stay here** \- one of the main reasons Watership Down had to be Komaeda's favorite book. This line is powerful in the book because it's the first time the speaker acknowledges Hazel as the Chief Rabbit after a lot of trials. In the same way, Komaeda has to acquiesce this round because Hinata has outmaneuvered him. Since Hinata knows Haiji's primary target is Komaeda, he arranges it so that Komaeda can't be taken knowing he will likely be the one taken instead. Komaeda accepts his decision and the consequences without complaint.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: The final two parts of this fic have SERIOUS THEMES, some of which are not tagged to prevent spoilers. Please feel free to click to the END NOTES for specific warnings for these two parts in order to recognize whether or not continuing this fic is the right decision for you.

Nagito walks into the dining hall with measured steps. Though the sound echoes through the space telegraphing his appearance, no one reacts with surprise to see him appear neatly dressed and unscathed. Other than a few cursory glances upward, no one reacts at all. He looks over the gathering coolly. 

“Mitarai?” He asks Imposter. 

“In hiding.” Imposter relays. 

“Get him.” It’s not a request. Imposter rises and goes. 

Nagito sits primly, ankles crossed, hands held neatly in his lap. Within the hour, Imposter returns, gently hustling Mitarai forward. The smaller man cringes inward on himself, his movements shuffling and reluctant. His eyes are wild, face a rictus of panic, and he stinks of otaku: sweat and fear. Mitarai still wears what he wore at the wedding, only rumpled, stained and dirty from cowering in a dumpster for a full 60 hours. He is also, aside from Nagito, the only Despair who does not have a large visible square bandage on his person somewhere. 

“How now, a rat.” Nagito greets him. 

Mitarai flinches and Imposter puts an arm around him protectively. 

“That’s unfair,” Imposter protests, but then he trembles. His strength is as prodigious as his size, but it too is reaching its limit, his face pale. There is a bandage at the juncture of his shoulder and neck, on the right side. It peeks out from under his clothing as he sways in place. 

“Sit down, Imposter,” Nagito says pleasantly. Imposter obeys, legs shaking as he lowers himself into the chair beside Mioda who has her head pillowed on her arms on the table. She leans a little into his space, a weak comfort. 

Mitarai, paralyzed by emotion, stares at Nagito completely tharn. As though Nagito, sitting still and straight-laced, embodies his very doom. It’s a nice thought, to destroy something so powerful as an Ultimate with mere disapproval.

“Why am I not surprised that you managed to escape unscathed once again.” 

Mitarai recoils. “I didn’t- I didn’t-” 

“You didn’t.” Nagito agrees. “Sit down, Mitarai.” 

Mitarai slowly sinks into an empty chair, a little away from the others. Always a little separate, always a little better than the rest. Hinata has been too lenient by far. Another thing for Nagito to address, he supposes. Say all this for love of him.

“Walk me through it,” Nagito requests. “Owari, you begin.” 

Owari shifts where she’s slumped carelessly in the seat, rubbing sulkily at her left forearm and the large square bandage there. She’s pale underneath her tan. 

“Got careless,” she grunts. “Morning trainin’ with Masaru before breakfast. He outran me, the little punk. They got ‘em.” 

“So they threatened to hurt him in order to get you to cooperate. Tell me about the extraction.” 

“I dunno, it’s like…” she gestures a little helplessly. “Like this big needle thing takin’ blood, but it ain’t blood. And then it was like, I’m just beat. Couldn’t fight for shit after.” 

Nagito nods. “Then Nidai.” 

The big man isn’t laughing for once. “She was helpless,” he says. “So I had to.” 

“Describe it.” 

“Weakness. A return to who I was before, when I was sick.” His bandage is on the back of his left hand. 

“Soda.” 

“The same damn thing, man. They come draggin’ the kids in kickin’ and screamin’ so course I did what they said.” Soda scrubs a hand over his face and down over the back of his neck and the bandage there. “I don’t feel great or nothin’ but it’s more like I feel… stupid? I guess. I couldn’t do so much as a oil change right now, I don’t think.”

“Is that all?” 

“Yeah. Well, maybe. I dunno. I know how they got in and out so quick.” Soda kicks at the floor. “Those damn tunnels. They musta got into position during the wedding-” Kuzuryu, eyes closed, gives a full body shudder at the word, “-and ya know. First thing, just like. Wham.” 

One by one they recount their experiences. Some were taken by surprise, some threatened or overpowered into cooperation. A great device lined with tiny needles that drew out _something_ thicker and darker than blood. Physical weakness, delayed reactions, confusion… a host of side effects that vary person to person. The Dark Divas of Destruction are so traumatized that they cower away from Tanaka, huddling in a dull eyed Sonia’s dress pockets. The Warriors of Hope sit in the corner, holding hands, not looking up. They look dirty and messy again; as sad and isolated as they were back in Towa City. 

“Kuzuryu,” Nagito says gently. “Tell me what happened to Peko.” 

Kuzuryu launches himself across the room at Nagito, knees skidding across the top of the table, stumbling forward with momentum, fisting both hands in the front of Nagito’s shirt and shaking him. 

“The fuck do you care? Huh?! You fuckin’ lucky piece of _trash,_ you ain’t got no bandage! You get locked up safe and snug while _my_ Peko, my _wife-_ ” Kuzuryu chokes. 

Nagito’s hand comes up to cover Kuzuryu’s gently, paying no mind to the way his shirt collar has twisted around his neck, cutting off his airway. He squeezes Kuzuryu’s hand affectionately. Kuzuryu drops him suddenly back into the chair, going limp, childlike. Nagito takes a measured breath. 

“She went to protect you, and to protect the baby.” Nagito says calmly. 

“Yeah. I know that- she. She told me that. She told me to stay alive and to find Hinata an’ you.” Kuzuryu swallows. There are bruises on his face and along both his wrists. His bandage is on his calf, where on pantleg was torn away in the struggle. He put up a hell of a fight, for all the good it did him. 

“So what happened when you found Hinata?” Nagito asks. “He went to the ship. Did he say why?” 

“Yeah. He said he was goin’ to negotiate.” Kuzuryu gives Nagito a sharp look. “Towa wanted you, ya know. Hinata took you off the table, lockin’ you up like that. Sure he was goddamned pissed about it.” 

“Never did mockers waste more idle breath.” Nagito mutters. Kuzuryu pushes away from him in disgust. 

“Yeah, well Hinata might be _dead_ from tryna protect you so maybe don’t be a fuckin’ asshole over it-” 

“Nobody’s dead,” Koizumi interjects weakly, eyes bright. Nagito forgets sometimes, a little on purpose, that she’s in love with Hinata too. A shame, that. Pathetic, even. 

Mitarai, who has been staring out the window and pretending to have no part in any of this, suddenly stands with such violence that his chair clatters backwards to the floor, bouncing twice. He points outside with a shaking finger. 

“Boat,” he gasps. “A… a boat!” 

~~

Peko Kuzuryu lies unconscious at the bottom of the lifeboat in a hospital gown. 

“What’s wrong with her?!” Kuzuryu demands, hovering over her, rocking the boat slightly where it’s docked. Tsumiki is frozen, eyes wide. 

“I-I… I… I-I don’t…”

Kuzuryu snarls. Nagito leans down, picking Peko up gently from the bottom of the boat. 

“Imposter, prepare a room at the clinic. You remember how, from helping Tsumiki?” 

Imposter nods. 

“Why the _fuck-_ ” Kuzuryu begins hotly and Tsumiki flinches. 

“Because she lost her talent, Kuzuryu.” Nagito explains patiently. “You all did.” 

Peko doesn’t regain consciousness. Nagito settles her into the hospital room and kicks everyone out except for Imposter and Tsumiki, Imposter because he has the most practical hospital experience from acting as Tsumiki’s assistant, and Tsumiki more or less out of professional courtesy. 

It doesn’t take long to conclude the examination. Not when Nagito knows, more or less, what he is looking for. 

When he steps into the waiting room, leaving Tsumiki to sit with Peko, Kuzuryu has a scrap of paper crushed in his fist. 

“Found it in the boat,” Soda explains, subdued. 

Peko Kuzuryu is recovering from a cesarean section, black stitches neatly following the curve of her now empty belly. 

There is no sign of the baby, or of Hajime Hinata. 

The note reads: _negotiations complete._

~~

When did Nagito fall in love with Hinata? 

Was it the first overwhelming wave of talent, pungent and artificial like expensive perfume? Kamakura _had_ tried to kill him then, and what could be more attractive? 

Was it their second meeting, on a wave rocked boat, eager to see how his luck would taint whatever doomed hope the Future Foundation had for their rehabilitation? 

Was it on the beach, in an artificial world? 

The answer is simple. It was every time, every moment, every world. Every Nagito was Hinata’s Nagito, and this somehow became, through sheer dumb luck and circumstance, the only Hinata who was Nagito’s too. 

He hadn’t understood it, really- too stupid and self-centered to understand much of anything ever. He hadn’t known what that kind of love _meant._

Not till the night he sat with Hinata, deep diving with the Chibi-P. 

_Remember this._

Nagito watched as Hinata touched game-Nagito. Kissed him. Held him. He watched game-Nagito make his way fearlessly through the Final Dead Room for Hinata’s sake, so stupid and _easy_ for him. Disgusting. An idiot child. 

Nagito watched himself find the files. Read the files. Understand the files. 

Break, a little. 

But Hinata had been there every step, speaking in that smooth, low, soothing voice, hands out and gentle, like game-Nagito was some kind of cute frightened animal. They’d left together, all loving looks and carefully timed dynamite. 

He’d wanted to rip the visor off Hinata’s face. He’d wanted to put his foot through the console, tear the monitor off the wall. 

How dare he. 

How _dare_ he. 

Nagito could hardly breathe, he was so angry. 

Angry at what? At who? At game-Nagito for his pathetic insouciance, giving way at the slightest pressure to show his sicky, needy underbelly? At Hinata for knowing, for caring softly for the dregs of Nagito, trapped in this program, hollow and useless and frozen in his lowest state? 

Jealousy and love, desire and horror- horror because he was beginning to understand what this meant. From the moment he took Hinata down into the sewers, brought him to the children, gave all his nameless plans over to Hinata’s more than capable hands. 

This, love. 

All in all, Nagito preferred Despair, which had its own calms. 

Accept suffering and redeem himself by it, that's what Nagito must do.

Nagito washes his hands meticulously in the sink. He studies himself in the mirror, adjusting his tied back hair minutely. He straightens his shirt collar and nods at his reflection. 

He dries his hands on a paper towel, folding it into a neat square before throwing it away. Then he steps through the door and down the hall into the  
hospital waiting room where everyone sits in stunned silence. Horrified faces, eyes wide, mouths slack, shoulders curved with the weight of near-despair. 

Kuzuryu rises when their eyes meet. 

“She’s stable,” Nagito assures him. “Though she’s heavily drugged. She won’t come around for a few hours yet, and she’ll need to be monitored for the next twenty four hours.” 

Kuzuryu nods curtly, heading toward the door. He pauses next to Nagito and their eyes meet. Nagito tilts his head to one side curiously. Kuzuryu reaches out, catching Nagito’s sleeve. 

“Bring back my baby,” Kuzuryu begs through gritted teeth. Then he disappears into Peko’s hospital room. 

“Imposter, you’re the senior medical personnel now. Working as Tsumiki’s assistant gave you medical knowledge beyond what you have through your talent of imitation. It shouldn’t have been affected by the talent extraction. Have Tsumiki assist _you_ for the time being.” 

Imposter nods. He touches Mioda gently on the arm as he rises and she smiles weakly. Tsumiki and Imposter follow Kuzuryu. 

Nagito surveys the remaining Despairs. 

“Whadda we even do now?” Hanamura mutters. 

“What can we do?” Soda laughs a touch hysterically. “We ain’t _nothin’_ without our talents. Even if we caught up with the Towa, there’s nothin’ we can do. Owari, Nidai an’ Peko were our best fighters.” 

“So we just… let them go? We just _lose_ them?” Koizumi’s chin wobbles. 

“Fuck that,” Saionji sneers. “Buncha pussy-babies.” 

“Yeah? You gonna take ‘em on? You couldn’t fight for shit even before you lost your talent,” Soda points out. Saionji glares but has no retort. 

“I have lost my dark benevolence,” Tanaka says in a low, sad voice. “I am no longer marked an ally to those powerful life forms.” 

“Kotoko, Nagisa, Jataro, Masaru,” Nagito addresses the children in the corner. They look up warily. “Someone needs to look out for the Followers. You know where the provisions are, and the emergency shelters.” 

“You want them to listen to a bunch of _kids?”_ ” Nagisa asks, incredulous. 

“No. I want them to listen to _you._ ” Nagito corrects. “Nidai, go with them.” 

“What are you doing?” Soda asks suddenly, as the kids help a wobbly Nidai make his way toward the front door. Nagito raises an eyebrow. “No. No way, listen, man- we’re not- we _can’t._ ”

“Why not?” Nagito asks. 

“We ain’t got any talent!” Soda yells. 

“So what?” Nagito asks calmly. 

“ _So what?!_ ” Soda screeches. 

“So what,” Nagito repeats. “Talent doesn’t matter.” 

A dead silence settles over the room. 

“Talent… doesn’t… matter.” Sonia repeats in disbelief. “Any talent? Or your talent only?” 

“Oh, untalented trash like me has never had a place among you,” Nagito says cheerfully. 

“There’s our Nagito-chan,” Mioda sighs in relief. 

“But I can’t deny that since the simulation, we have… changed. I have changed. I’m stronger. I’ve learned things, through all of you. And if I can change… if I can find some worth outside my worthless talents, then… haven’t you? Haven’t all of you?” Nagito asks, eyes roaming the room. 

“How… would we even do this? If we did this.” Koizumi asks cautiously. 

“It’s simple. We infiltrate the warship, retrieve Hinata and the baby, disable the threat, and return to our home.” Nagito says pleasantly. 

“That is totally pigshit,” Saionji says with barely contained delight. 

“It is the suicide,” Sonia corrects her. 

“I’d rather succeed in doing what we can than fail to do what we can’t.” Nagito argues. “We can do this. I believe in all of you. Please, believe in us too.” A silence falls again- but a good silence, a waiting silence. The kind of silence that falls before a movie begins, or just before the credits roll. 

“What the fuck.” Soda mutters, giving in. “I’m gonna haunt you so hard if this goes tits up, I swear to god.” 

~~

Mitarai’s escape from talent-drain is a fortuitous circumstance after all; his talents are so intertwined with technological prowess that he’s a one man monitoring system all on his lonesome. He’s able to ping Towa’s ship thirty miles off the coast, and to fix on their communication frequency with surprising accuracy. 

“I can patch interference, but in order to counter the frequency, you need an extremely specific audio cue. Something in a… pattern.” Mitarai tries to explain with a grimace. 

“What kinda pattern?” Mioda asks with interest. 

“It’s probably easier to play it for you.” Mitarai clicks a button and a specific series of beeps and blurbs in a set pattern, repeating for four minutes and thirty three seconds. “The pattern changes about a minute and a half in.” 

“Ah man. It sounds like this could have been right up my alley,” Mioda says, drooping a little. 

“Hey.” Soda taps on the top of the monitor twice to get their attention. “Play it again.” Surprised, Mitarai complies. 

This time, halfway soon, Soda starts humming. 

“That sounds familiar, what is that?” Mioda asks curiously. 

“A modern-day warrior, mean, mean stride… Today's Tom Sawyer, mean, mean pride.” Soda sings. “Rush, Tom Sawyer. It moves from a 4/4 time to a 7/4 time after ninety seconds. Patch it on loop and it’ll jam their comms.” 

“Wow, _how_ did you know that Kazu?” Mioda gasps. 

Soda hip bumps her gently. “I had a good teacher.” Mioda beams. 

“Oh!” Mioda perks up suddenly. “You’re a good teacher!” 

“Thanks?” Soda says, puzzled. Mioda looks encouragingly between Nagito and Soda. “Oh…. Oh!” Soda smacks his closed fist into his palm. 

“You two grab Sonia and meet me at the warehouse,” Nagito instructs. By the time they turn up, he’s tucking the last supplies into his rucksack, slinging it over his shoulder. A bit heavy, but best to be prepared- and with his new musculature, barely a hardship. 

“I do not understand how I can be of the help,” Sonia is protesting. Soda places a large remote control unit into her hands. 

“You know how to do this, Sonia,” he says encouragingly “When you’re down here workin’ you ain’t a princess… you’re just a friend.” 

“A friend.” Sonia repeats, smiling. “Yes.” She moves the joysticks experimentally and a few of the Mini-Maru at her feet stand at attention. “Yes. I remember this.” 

“Ibuki?” Soda turns with a grin but Mioda is already across the room altogether, climbing into the Mega-Mecha-Maru with a whoop. 

~~

Saionji and Koizumi, it turns out, have been taking the little boats left by the Follower’s flight from the mainland for joy rides, so they’re able to manage navigation to the rendezvous point. 

Owari, practically useless in battle now, had waved her hand lazily until Mitarai nervously plopped the receiver onto her head. 

“You’re sure you can handle this?” Mitarai had asked nervously. 

“Yeah, I just gotta tell them whatever you say, right?” Owari shrugged. 

“You’ll get my transmission, but only on the ship above the water. You’ll have to relay my intel.” Mitarai grimaced. “You’re sure you can’t?” He pleaded with Nagito. 

“I wouldn’t trust me,” Nagito had said pragmatically. “Might be unlucky.” 

Nobody really liked that, so they dropped it.

Owari tests the comms and then gives the okay. Mioda in the Mega-Mecha-Maru walks along the bottom of the seafloor, plunging the sharp tips of the clawed arms into the underside of the ship, piercing the hull. As soon as they observe the frenzied movement on board as Towa’s crew scrambles to identify the problem, Mitarai instructs Owari to transmit the music, blocking their coms before Sonia unleashes the Mini-Maru army. 

“Now,” Owari parrots, and Soda, Tanaka, Hanamura and Nagito take the opportunity to quietly sneak onboard. Nagito waits until the three of them hook around to the left before sharply turning right, following the perimeter of the boat. When Owari tries to check in, Nagito pulls out his earpiece and cheerfully tosses it overboard. Nagito will trust his luck alone. 

He lets that tug direct him, sliding behind pipes and doors just as guards thunder past.

“Three intruders on level C, starboard side!” One barks into her walkie. 

Nagito continues, pausing here and there as necessity dictates. His bag feels lighter when he approaches a door that just _feels_ right. He pulls it open.

“Took you long enough, you damn pretty boy,” Toko Fukawa snaps, cradling a baby to her chest behind iron bars. 

“A pleasure as always,” Nagito says agreeably. When she glares at him, he notes that while one eye is grey, the other is ringed in red. “Enjoying your stay?” 

She rolls her eyes. “I’m sure you can guess.” 

“A lucky one or two. Are you the only one left?” Nagito glances around the room, full of cells like Toko’s, only empty. Well, mostly empty. A few have mattresses stained with blood, red flecks all along the walls. Nagito might glimpse a shoe in a murky red puddle, foot still inside. 

“Me and Snotface,” Toko says, jerking her head to indicate the bundle in her arms. “Snatched her when they were busy putting Mama overboard. They’re wussy and dumb so they haven’t figured out how to get her back yet.” 

“And now they never will,” Nagito says pleasantly. “Level D, starboard side connects to the escape boat.” 

“He’s two decks down in the labs,” Toko tells Nagito. “They never let him up this high.” 

“Thanks for the tip,” Nagito says lightly. “Anything else I should know?” 

Toko frowns. “They’re experimenting with talent. How to get it, how to transfer it. Technically, I have two, so I was… exempt from extraction. They did something else. It’s just me now. Or maybe it’s both, I don’t know.” 

“I imagine they did something similar to Hinata, then.” Nagito smiles unpleasantly. 

“Worse,” Toko grimaces. 

~~

By the time Nagito makes it to F Deck, he’s abandoned his rucksack and is just moving with all possible speed. The labs are a horror show, filled with the dead and the dying. Glass tubes filled with body parts suspended in fluids, vials of blood and darker liquids lining the walls- too many to count. It’s at the far end of suffering that Nagito finds him. 

Hinata is forced to kneel on the ground in a puddle of old blood, chains looped tightly around his waist, bolted to the walls. His left arm is similarly situated. Where his right hand should be is a gaping wound, the open end sleeved with a metallic sheath. The inside of the sheath, Nagito can guess, is lined with rows of long needles. Hinata has been missing for only a few days, but his hair has grown halfway down his back. His eyes, dazed, stare out into the distance, red and glazed. Fully Kamukura, in the face of hell. Who alone suffers, suffers most.

Nagito reaches out a shaking hand. 

Some sense makes him stop short, snap to attention and spring out of the way as a heavy emergency fire ax crashes down to the floor, pinging off the metal with a screech. Hinata doesn’t even stir at the sound, too far gone in his cocoon of misery. 

Nagito turns. 

Haiji Towa smiles in greeting as he hefts the ax between them, posture light and easy. Almost welcoming. 

“You’ll have to try harder than that,” Nagito warns. “I bear a charmed life.”

Haiji nods, then swings again. Nagito isn’t quite fast enough this time- his ankle catches on the corner of a table and when he ducks down, the axe catches his sleeve, tearing it open and nicking the skin. A trickle of hot blood runs down, pooling in the crook of his elbow. 

Haiji swings the ax back up, leaning it heavily on one shoulder. He almost seems to pose, stepping closer into the light- where Nagito can see that Haiji’s right arm no longer has connectors or any other mark of cybernetic enhancement. Instead, it looks healthy. Tanned. Familiar…. 

“If it’s luck, I have that too,” Haiji grins.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW for chapter 7:
> 
> kidnapping, abduction of a child, non-consensual surgery, forcible amputation, human experimentation, imprisonment, forced childbirth 
> 
> ~~
> 
> Reference Notes:
> 
> **How now, a rat** \- Hamlet before he kills Polonius who is hiding to eavesdrop. Komaeda noticed that Mitarai realized the infiltration was happening the night of the wedding but was too cowardly to sound the alarm and hid to save himself. 
> 
> **tharn** -the state of terrified paralysis rabbits experience when overwhelmed by fear from Watership Down; Komaeda uses this to describe Mitarai as a useless rabbit during the invasion. 
> 
> **Say that I did all this for love of her.** \- Richard the 3rd, trying to excuse evil actions for the sake of his daughter. Foreshadowing for what Komaeda is willing to do to get Hinata back. 
> 
> **Never did mockers waste more idle breath.** \- Helena says this in A Midsummer’s Nightdream when Lysander and Demetrius fight over her, thinking their words of love are a joke when they are fairy cursed. Komaeda thinks Hinata’s affections are a kind of madness/curse and thinks his actions equally incomprehensible. 
> 
> **Despair has its own calms.** \- Harker's line in Dracula about accepting his imprisonment. Komaeda uses this to explain that love is more complicated and painful than becoming a Despair, since he didn't care about anything when in despair despite the terrible things he did. 
> 
> **Accept suffering and redeem yourself by it, that's what you must do** \- Quote from Crime and Punishment where the love interest tries to convince the main character to confess his misdeeds and face justice. Komaeda also wants to accept his past and whatever he will do in the future, all knowingly and for Hinata's sake this time. 
> 
> **I’d rather succeed in doing what we can than fail to do what we can’t** \- Watership Down quote, when the rabbits are facing what looks like a losing battle. Komaeda uses it to rally the troops in the same way. 
> 
> **Who alone suffers suffers most** \- Edgar's line from King Lear where he expresses sympathy for Lear's suffering and finds similarities in it. Hinata is missing an arm now just like Komaeda, so Komaeda has the same emotional response although he realizes it's not exactly the same since Komaeda's wound was self-inflicted under Despair. 
> 
> **I bear a charmed life** \- Macbeth quote where he tries to convince Macduff that he cannot be killed. That turns out to be false, the same way that Komaeda soon realizes that through stealing Hinata's arm, Towa has inherited at least some of his powers to some degree.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warnings for serious stuff! If you think there may be some things you want to avoid and don't mind spoilers, please click to the end notes for a list. After the reference guide, there are also a few author's notes. Thank you for taking this trip into DR hell with me!

Nagito ducks down into a forward roll, tucking himself under a lab table as Haijia Towa laconically swings the ax again, skidding off the metal flooring with a shower of sparks that make his lavender eyes glitter. He makes no move to follow up the blow, just idly tapping the flat of the blade against one steel-toed boot. Nagito, underneath, watches those feet, that steady, confident stance. 

“I don’t want to kill you,” Haiji says. “But you knew that already, didn’t you?” Nagito tenses, not bothering to answer him. He shifts in place, trying to maneuver silently. 

“I never lied to you, Komaeda.” Haiji continues. “Economic security is a power beyond all else. You never did ask what we were planning to trade.” 

Nagito extends the electro-shock baton as he sweeps it forward, aiming for the back of Haiji’s ankle. Haiji side steps it without haste; the ax falls forward, cleaving through the table neatly seconds later. Nagito throws himself to the side, landing in a crouch, right arm raised to block the next blow with his baton. The impact leaves him vibrating, so off set that he falls sprawling backwards, barely missing the next swing that was aiming for his neck. As good luck would have it. 

Nagito kicks his heels up sharply and Haiji has to concede a step back to avoid catching the blow under his vulnerable chin, giving Nagito a chance to get to his feet again. Back on even ground. They circle each other warily. 

“Talents.” Nagito says evenly. 

“Talents,” Haiji agrees. “Yours especially.” 

“Oh, I am fortune’s fool.” Nagito says with a mocking bow, his eyes never leaving Haiji who laughs with unfeigned delight. 

“You make for such spirited company,” Haiji says, still smiling. “I admit to some dissatisfaction with your substitute.” 

Nagito does not look at Hinata. He cannot look at Hinata- at the first sign of inattention, their stalemate will snap. 

“The baby,” Nagito prompts instead. 

“The rose of youth. We’ve had a few setbacks,” Haiji allows. 

“Devouring time, blunt thy lion’s paws,” Nagito says pointedly, looking at Haiji’s sharp ax, deceptively still at his side. 

“Yes,” Haiji agrees. “The talent transfer is impermanent if the person in question was not already talented in some way. Terribly frustrating.” 

Nagito smirks. He’d always known Hinata was special, after all. 

“We’ve had some promising leads, however,” Haiji says, cutting into his thoughts sharply. “With Toko Fukawa, and with this.” Haiji flexes his stolen hand with a gentle smile. “I knew all I needed was, well…” Haiji shrugs. “A lucky break?” And he swings the ax, a hard quick slice through the air and Nagito blocks it, but the force rips his baton from his hands, leaving him unarmed. Nagito rolls to the side, kicking a table between them. Haiji smashes through it in a rain of test tubes and lab charts.

“You think I will make the talent transfer permanent?” Nagito asks with a sneer. “Some ill unlucky thing.”

“Wouldn’t it be such a strange, improbable thing for your luck to be the missing piece of permanent talent? So very unlikely. Almost as unlikely as a teenage girl bringing about the end of the world.” 

He swings again but this time Nagito is ready. He feigns a stagger backwards and when Haiji presses his advantage, Nagito strikes. He kicks upward, catching Haiji’s abdomen unprotected. As Haiji curls forward in surprise, Nagito ducks low and follows through with a second kick, and the ax spins off into the corner with a clatter. He rises, both equally disarmed now- and Nagito spares a quick glance to make sure that the ax has not struck Hinata, still sitting strange and blank and bolted to the wall. 

It is his doom. 

Familiar fingers tighten around Nagito’s throat, dragging him a little off his feet. When he tenses, the hand shakes warningly. 

“Ah ah,” Haiji warns. “You’re making this more complicated than it needs to be. I want to help you. I think we can help each other. You want your Hinata to live happy on his little island paradise? Do you think I’ll be the last to try and come collect? Pay the piper what is due, Komaeda. I can protect all their happiness. No one will dare step foot on Jabberwock without our permission- not if they want what we’re selling. And they will. They all will.” 

Nagito opens his mouth to respond but the grip tightens so that all that escapes is a little woosh of air. 

“Think carefully,” Haiji advises. “You’re not losing anything that you would miss. It has been your virtue or your plague all these many years. Don’t you want that life without it? Don’t you want to see what you are without that horror?” 

Nagito allows himself to go limp. 

“Good boy,” Haiji croons, heaving Nagito across the floor. Nagito curls a little under himself as he is dragged through the wreckage of their fight- splinters of wood, shards of glass, papers, metal. Haiji hauls Nagito up onto a table; Nagito clenches his fists tightly but otherwise puts up no resistance as Haiji straps him down, one long across his chest, another over his waist, and a third across his legs. 

With nimble fingers, Haiji powers down Komaeda’s arm. It goes heavy and limp at his side. 

“Mm, yes.” Haiji says consideringly. “Surgical attachment along the nerve endings. Very intricate and excellently done.” 

Then he reaches in almost delicately, slipping blunt tipped fingernails between the edge of Nagito’s natural arm and the metal plating of his gifted one. Then he tears. It is not an easy neat separation of unliving things. The skin sticks, it breaks unevenly, sometimes along scar tissue, sometimes deeper. Slicker. The blood wells and drips hotly along Nagito’s side, soaking into his clothing, plastering it against his stomach. He screams. 

“The agony is exquisite, is it not? You think you will die. But you just keep living. Day after day, after terrible day.” Haiji says, smiling. Nagito writhes beneath the straps almost mindlessly, as though motion will somehow deliver him from the pain. His flesh hand grips the lowest strap as though to anchor him to reality. He does not pass out. 

“Ready?” Haiji asks considerately. Nagito shakes his head desperately. Haiji pulls. 

The snap of his limb coming free peaks. Nagito’s voice breaks into a ragged sob. 

“Wait and hope,” Haiji says soothingly. He drops Nagito’s arm to the ground with a clang of metal and the wet slap of bloody flesh. Haiji walks back across the room to Hinata, dripping all the way. He unfastens the metal sleeve from Hinata’s stump, drawing the needles free of the open flesh. 

Haiji returns with the metal sleeve, still rust-shiny from Hinata’s injury. Haiji connects a tube to the end that leads to a contraption attached to a large glass bottle next to him. 

It’s hideous, the slow push of sharp needles into his open wound. Nagito breathes out low and long, so long that his vision sparks and threatens to go dark. That won’t do. He thumps his head backward against the table hard enough to refocus. 

Slowly, a dark something- blood tinged but thicker, heavier, begins to fill the tube. 

Haiji pets Nagito’s hair, sweaty and bloodied at the ends. Nagito whimpers. It feels not as though he is losing blood, but something more. It was as though he had looked around to realize he could no longer see the sky. The color blue, lost forever. 

“I am what you designed me to be. I am your blade. You cannot now complain if you also feel the hurt.” Haiji murmurs. 

Across the room, Hinata stares at the floor, where two drops of Nagito’s blood had struck the ground between his knees. 

“It’s almost over,” Haiji soothes. The glass bottle is nearly full. 

And Nagito can see it, stretching out- a future without luck or loss, a future of beautiful despondent normalcy. A life with no more than normal fears, where nothing terrible or wonderful can threaten the endless cottony bliss of contentedness. 

“Isn’t it pretty to think so?” Nagito asks dreamily. Then he slashes out with his right hand. The concealed piece of glass in his palm catches Haiji along the face, a deep gash along his cheek that weeps blood. Haiji’s hands come up to cup the wound and Nagito twists against the straps where he’s weakened them, sawing at the underside while Haiji had been ripping him apart. The leg strap snaps in two and Nagito kicks the contraption once, twice- then Haiji is striking him, blows raining down on his face and chest. Nagito’s teeth cut the inside of his cheek; the skin splits, his nose bleeds. 

A low noise rises up from Nagito and Haiji pauses momentarily. A slick, sick, rising sound. A laugh. 

“There’s a dog loose in the woods,” Nagito says with a mouth full of blood. 

Haiji’s confusion is plain. Of course it is. He tries, pathetic thing, but even with Hinata’s stolen talents he is worthless in the end. This is as far as his hope can take him. 

The ship jars slightly; Mioda excising the Mega-Mecha-Maru’s claws from the ship’s underbelly. Not much of a movement, really. It would be terribly unlucky, if that miniscule difference shifted the inner wall to the lower deck. If it were enough to loosen the chains bolted to the wall, if the smell of fresh blood had been enough to rouse someone from a dark suffering dream. If a missing arm let him slip soundlessly from his bondage and make his way across the lab. 

The glass bottle on the table is empty. Nagito’s kick had landed on the reverse setting. His luck, tinged with the edge of Hinata’s luck, settles into his bones. A welcoming horror. 

“I’ll kill you.” Haiji spits, reaching for Nagito’s throat.

“You are closer to death than I,” Nagito says. 

And Hinata Hajime tears Haiji Towa into pieces. 

~~

Nagito doesn’t remember most of the ride back. He cradles his robotic arm in his lap, a perverse souvenir. Soda watches him worriedly but Hinata is a heavy weight at his side. He blinks and his eyes are red, or green, or both. Sometimes neither. Toko cradles the baby and watches Nagito like she knows. Perhaps she does. 

“C’mon man, we gotta get you to the hospital,” Soda says uneasily as soon as they land. 

“Hinata first,” Nagito says firmly. 

“But-” 

“I’ll walk him,” Toko says. 

‘Yeah?” Soda glances at her nervously. “Okay. Komaru… she’s really gonna be glad you’re okay.” 

Toko’s lips twist into the approximation of a smile. “Okay,” she echoes in an odd voice, but Soda is halfway down the dock already, ushering a near-catatonic Hinata toward the clinic. 

She turns to Nagito and looks him up and down. “You’re about thirty minutes from passing out,” she says flatly. “You need a blood transfusion and I think your nose is broken.” 

“So talented,” he murmurs. Idly, his tongue pushes against a loose canine. 

“Here.” She shifts the baby to one arm and holds the other out. Impatiently, she motions until he gives her his severed arm. “Twenty minutes,” she says. “Get it done.” 

Nagito turns on his heel and walks swiftly up the path inland, up to the central command, up to the security room. His palm is bloody when he slaps it against the reader, but it still beeps green and lets him inside.

Mitarai looks up, surprised. “Komaeda? What- oh god, is that _blood?_ ” 

Nagito steps up to the console which causes Mitarai to skitter backwards and away. Calmly, Nagito patches the communications together, cutting the looped 70’s rock. He initiates the call. 

“You _monster._ ” Someone unimportant spits on the other line. The scene behind that person is all chaos and rising water. 

Nagito holds the Page Down button. The sequence to hijack the global broadcasting network initiates. Though Kyoko and Naegi must be aware of it, they do not attempt override. Indirect support. 

“The crimes of the Towa against the sovereign nation of the Jabberwock Islands are as follows: you did misrepresent your intentions in order to gain access to our territory. You abducted a member of our ruling council, our leader supreme, and a newborn child. You have visited injury upon them that violates the Geneva Convention. How do you plead?” 

“Fuck you,” the nameless Towa officiate spits. There’s blood smeared along the walls of the lab. Haiji’s blood. 

“During recovery, we were able to confirm that it was through the Towa group’s deliberate human experimentation that several of the Future Foundation’s agents were detained and even destroyed. Do you have anything to say in your defense?” 

“This isn’t over!” The lab is filled with angry pink and blue faces, faces Nagito does not care to know and never really did. Their useless anger. Their pointless machinations. 

From the moment that Hinata locked Nagito away, he’d known. He’d have to have known. Hinata would go, Nagito would follow, and the mission would be completed the Komaeda way. 

“I am sorry,” Nagito says pleasantly. Behind him, Mitarai gasps. He can be taught after all, Nagito notes. 

“For what?” a Towa officer snarls. 

“For your deaths.” Nagito explains. Then he reaches into his pocket with his remaining hand. It takes only a moment for them to recognize the detonator in his hand- the one linked wirelessly to the explosives from the warehouse that he’d planted all along the ship’s perimeter. 

“No, wait, please-” 

Nagito presses the button. 

The screams cut off mid-broadcast. A slight echoes of the explosion, a larger than average wave against the beach. Blood in the water. 

Nagito passes out in the chair when the screens go dark. 

~~

He wakes up on white sheets in a white room. His arm is re-attached, looking shiny and new. He sits up slowly, looking around. A room in the clinic. Clean clothes are folded on a chair by the bed. He dresses quietly and makes the bed before he goes. It’s late and dark and quiet. The other doors are closed. He walks out the front, along the path down to the docks. Someone sits on a bench where the path splits. Soda tosses him a rucksack. 

“You knew,” Soda says without preamble. “You knew that talent stealin’ shit was temporary.” 

Nagito shrugs. “Lucky guess.” 

“It started comin’ back soon as we pulled in. Good thing too, gettin' Hinata’s arm reattached.” He hesitates. “He’s still under, you know? Even with his metabolism, he’ll be down a few hours yet.” 

Nagito nods, unsurprised. 

“Are you really gonna go?” Soda asks wistfully. 

“Yes, Soda.” Nagito says gently. “I really have to go.” 

“We’d fight for ya. We’re a team. Kuzuryu’d prolly name the baby after you if ya wanted.” 

“Don’t tempt fate,” Nagito warns lightly. “And she’s a girl, so they’ll call her Natsumi.” 

“Lucky guess,” Soda echoes. 

“This was always part of the plan, Soda. Infiltrate the warship, retrieve Hinata and the baby, disable the threat.” 

“You disabled the hell out of ‘em,” Soda argues. “The whole world saw you blow ‘em to shit.” 

“They’re not the only threat,” Nagito explains, raising an eyebrow. 

Soda bristles. “You ain’t-” 

“I am. And what better way to suss out the others than by using what you have? Be fire with fire.” Nagito shakes his head. “I am right.” 

“You usually are. Don’t mean I gotta like it though.” Soda grumbles. 

“Thank you for coming to say goodbye,” Nagito says with feeling. 

“I ain’t,” Soda snaps, getting to his feet. He stalks over to Nagito and wraps him in a one-armed hug. “This ain’t goodbye. You go do your weirdo spy-guy shit, whatever makes you feel useful, fine, but- you’re coming back. One of these days, you’re coming back home. So this ain’t goodbye, it’s see you later.” 

Soda releases him, looking up and blinking hard. Then he sets off, hands tucked in his pockets, not looking back. 

“Took you long enough,” a cool feminine voice from the dark, touched with familiar irritation. 

“I am sorry to keep you waiting, lady.” Nagito apologizes graciously, stepping into the boat. Toko Fukawa harrumphs as she moves around the vessel, getting it ready to sail. “I thought you might like to stay,” he says, helping to hoist the main line. 

“Your arm’s still healing, so sit the hell down.” She instructs. “And I ain’t a Despair, and you ain’t Future Foundation. So I guess we’re our own little fuck up island now, pretty boy.” 

“I guess so,” he agrees, watching her work. They push off from the dock and begin to drift along the current, out and away. Is there a long haired shadow on the roof of the hospital, looking down? Impossible. Still, Nagito watches it grow smaller and smaller in the distance. 

“Tis a far, far better thing you do than you have ever done before,” Toko says, breaking the quiet. 

He smiles at her thankfully, but he doesn’t feel selfless. In a way this is the most selfish thing he has ever done. Every moment of safety, every happy instant now in Hinata’s paradise is bought with Nagito’s blood. With the things that he learns and the secrets he discovers, he will keep Hinata’s dream safe forever- and Hinata will never, ever be allowed to forget him. 

“All the world will be your enemy, Prince with a Thousand Enemies,” Nagito whispers to himself under the sounds of the surf and tide. “Whenever they catch you, they will kill you. But first they must catch you. Be cunning and full of tricks and your people shall never be destroyed.” 

And then he is gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: blood, injury, needles, forcible dismemberment, torture, mass killing, explosions, acts of terrorism 
> 
> ~Reference Guide~
> 
>  **As good luck would have it** \- Merry Wives of Windsor. Falstaff thinks that what is about to occur is a fortunate coincidence, but it turns out to be a deliberate set up, just as Komaeda is orchestrating.
> 
>  **O I am fortune’s fool** \- Romeo and Juliet, when Romeo blames his misfortunes on his luck when it's really the fault of his deliberate choices. Komaeda is acknowledging his part in his own misery. 
> 
> **He wears the rose of youth upon him** \- Antony and Cleopatra, Antony says what should be a compliment but is an insult because it points out weakness and inexperience in leadership. Towa uses it to point out helplessness makes it an easy target/test subject. 
> 
> **Devouring time, blunt thy lion’s paws** \- Sonnet 19. Komaeda says that time is Towa's enemy because the effects of the stolen Talent are temporary. It's also a pun because the ax is sharp and Towa needs to use it since his time with Hinata's talents will end soon if he doesn't get Komaeda's probability powers. 
> 
> **I fear some ill unlucky thing** \- Romeo and Juliet, Friar Lawrence who considers how Romeo and Juliet's reunion plans could go wrong. Here Komaeda is referring to himself as the ill unlucky thing- he can't be the crux of any plan because he thinks he will ruin the plan just by existing. 
> 
> **Pay the piper his dues** \- Pied Piper of Hamlin reference. For destroying Towa City and causing pain/suffering to Haiji, Haiji is sentencing Komaeda to becoming his guinea pig and luck source forever. Since the Pied Piper of Hamlin took the children of the story when their parents wouldn't pay him what he was owed, the implication is Towa will let Hinata go and leave the Despairs and the baby alone if Komaeda stays.
> 
>  **My virtue or my plague** \- Claudius explaining his motive for murdering his brother (love for Gertrude, the queen); Towa calls Komaeda's luck this because it is his only talent but it also has ruined Komaeda's life. 
> 
> **The agony is exquisite, is it not? You think you will die. But you just keep living. Day after day, after terrible day** \- Great Expectations, the quote talks about a broken heart but Towa uses it to describe the physical torture he is putting Komaeda through. 
> 
> **Wait and hope** \- Count of Monte Cristo quote, here said sarcastically because of Komaeda's obsession with hope and the seemingly hopeless situation he is in as Towa's captive. 
> 
> **I am what you designed me to be. I am your blade. You cannot now complain if you also feel the hurt** \- Great Expectations quote, where Estelle has been corrupted by Miss Havisham. Towa is telling Komaeda that because Komaeda and the Warriors of Hope destroyed his arm, his city, his family and his prospects that everything that happens now is Komaeda's fault. Since Towa was already a bastard, though, this is more manipulation. 
> 
> **Isn’t it pretty to think so** \- Final line of The Sun Also Rises by Hemmingway, where Bhrett is pretending she and the narrator could have ever lived happily ever after when he knows better. Komaeda disagrees with Towa's assessment of the future and thinks his perspective is naive. 
> 
> **There’s a dog loose in the woods** \- Watership Down quote. To save the warren, Hazel leads a loose dog on the attacking rabbits and uses the dog to kill the enemy. Komaeda's luck, when it is re-injected stronger with the remains of Hinata's, sets Hinata loose. Hinata in Kamukura mode is a mad dog who kills Towa by ripping him to pieces, the same as the dog in the book. Towa has enough talent and individual education to sort of play the quote game with Komaeda, but he isn't savvy enough to identify the warning for what it is and so he dies. 
> 
> **You are closer to death than I** Watership Down quote when Fiver warns Vervain, and Komaeda warns Towa. Meant to confuse and horrify. 
> 
> **Believe me, I am sorry for your death.** Again a warning that gets ignored and results in death from WD. 
> 
> **be fire with fire** \- Shakespeare quote, early instance of fighting fire with fire in literature. 
> 
> **Tis a far far better thing I do than I have ever done before** \- A Tale of Two Cities, said before a great sacrifice. Toko is also a literature talent so she plays the game. 
> 
> **All the world will be your enemy, Prince with a Thousand Enemies...** \- quote from Watership Down. Komaeda is in self-exile but will use this time to work secretly to keep the Island of Despairs and the Future Foundation safe. He will have to rely on his cleverness and his luck to stay alive. 
> 
> ~Author's Note~
> 
> Thank you all so much! There is a final part 4 that will resume updates in November. This has been a labor of love, so drop me a comment or say hey on twitter if you're so inclined. <3

**Author's Note:**

> Kudos and comments keep me on task <3


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